Far Beyond the End
by nightmarekitt
Summary: 1000 years after Advent Children, Sephiroth is sent back to the world of the living with one purpose: protect Cloud Strife. However, in a world of Blacks and Whites, how is he to accomplish this goal? Cloud x Sephiroth
1. Chapter 1

**Far Beyond the End**

**Author's Note:** Fair warning: sexytimes between two male fictional characters will be happening here. Also, Original Characters. Editing has taken place in lieu of wanting to remove annoying typos. Apologies to those who read it before mistakes were corrected. Page Breaks will likely be annoying/weird, because 's formatting doesn't agree with me.

**Obvious Disclaimer:**I intend no infringement with this work of fanfiction. Characters belong to the creators of Final Fantasy VII. However, creative liberties have been taken with characterization. This disclaimer applies to the entirety of _Far Beyond the End_. You will not be seeing it again.

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_How do you step back into a broken world, when you are the one who did the breaking? How do you muster up the courage to save someone who absolutely hates you? How can you apologize for existing and accept forgiveness for a crime that you don't think you deserve forgiveness for?_

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Sephiroth materialized on the outskirts of a small village a few hundred miles south of the ancient city of Midgar. He was sitting on the edge of a creek, studying his reflection on the water's surface as the afternoon sun beat down on his broad, pale shoulders. With silver hair shorn to the barest inch and green eyes lacking their usual luminescence, he looked very little like the man who had played a large part in the near-ruin of the world.

His typical leather attire was nowhere in sight, and he seemed nothing but miles of milky white skin and corded muscle to the woman who now stood stock-still on the path behind him, thinking that the man was probably harmless but for the madness that lead him to sit naked out in the open.

After all, any sensible person would immediately be inclined to find some cover, surely.

Rhea wasn't sure what to make of the pale man who had burst into existence from what she did not have adequate experience enough to recognize as a cord of broken lifestream. She was a simple woman, a mother with a young child at home and no husband to speak of. She dealt with all the accusations that came with spawning a bastard and did her best to keep those hurtful words from ever reaching her beloved son's ears. She worked far too hard for far too little just to support her small family of two, and while she was used to dealing with the surprises that a young child could dish out, the emergence of a strange man in the middle of the woods from seemingly nothing was just a little too much for her to handle.

Without further ado, she spun on her heel and started walking back towards civilization, deciding that a trip to visit the neighboring city had been a poor idea anyway and that she was not ready to take responsibility for the crazy man mooning over his own pretty face by the water. She was almost fortunate enough to escape his attention, but fate had other plans for Rhea that fine afternoon.

While the woman made what she hoped was a hasty, yet quiet retreat, Sephiroth was experiencing a plethora of emotions as he stared at his reflection on the water.

In the lifestream he had existed as a bundle of compressed energy, a bit like a rock on a riverbed: battered smooth when the waters were high and baking in the warmth of the sun when they weren't. The issue was that he had been the _only_ rock on the riverbed, and the former souls of the living were a never-ending flood of water rushing at him with a constant ferocity. Once truly dead, the lifestream had only accepted the bits of Sephiroth that were not corrupted by the Calamity, and even the little part that made up what he had always been before being corrupty by Jenova was a guilty mess that the Planet and most inhabitants of the lifestream dearly hated.

His only saving grace had been the influence of the Cetra girl: Aerith. For all the time that he had spent in the lifestream, he had never understood her mercy, forgiveness, or clear defiance of the Planet's will as it sought to destroy every last inch of Jenova's son. However, centuries passed, and though the Planet did not forget, it forgave him in smallest intervals, until eventually, Sephiroth mustered the strength to unwind and become something a bit less like a rock. But he did not join the water. Instead he lingered by the side of the Cetra girl and slowly tried to understand _why_. Not any particular "why", simply the all-encompassing reason for everything that had happened to him, from beginning to far beyond the end.

Even in the folds of death and the madness of rushing lifestream, Jenova's Child and the Ancient became something like friends. Of course, Sephiroth also felt the presence of others that he had known in his life. Zack in particular liked to brush by in the lifestream's endless rush, and would make his presence known by broadcasting his most ridiculous memories from a past long forgotten. Angeal lived in the lifestream, too, and though Sephiroth wasn't altogether fond of his presence after all they had been through, there was something to be said for the man's persistence in vying for Sephiroth's forgiveness. Genesis was not there, as he had been granted some sort of gift from the Planet that's depth Sephiroth could not grasp. All he knew is that the Goddess that Genesis had always longed for had finally answered, and in knowing so, Sephiroth felt faintly proud for his old friend, despite the bitter sting of the betrayal that tore them apart.

In all the strangeness that came with existing in the lifestream, Sephiroth did manage to find himself again. He remembered who he truly was, and that small bit of him that existed without corruption began to shine and thrive. His memories were not stunted, however. Every horror that he had committed, whether in his original body any that came after, were always fresh in his mind, being relived instantaneously with every passing moment. He did not have many happy memories, though the few that he dearly cherished were always wrought in battle and always involved the same person: Cloud.

What started as resentment, was realized as fondness, and grew into something that Sephiroth was hard-pressed to believe himself capable of feeling. He expressed this disbelief to the Cetra girl as that feeling grew unbearably strong, and she gently explained that it had always existed within him, only coming to fruition once he had truly regained the very essence of who he always should have been.

Despite the swell of longing that often filled his heart and danced neatly around the sharp and bloody memories, Sephiroth grew content with his existence in death.

Then, the change happened. It came at a moment when he was lost in a memory of turmoil, drifting quietly and unobtrusively where the Cetra's spirit often dwelled. There was a surge in the lifestream, unlike anything that Sephiroth had ever felt there, and even Aerith had not expected its arrival. Sephiroth was just beginning to recover from the reeling sensation of such a change, when it happened again, far more violently, and the Planet reached into its own lifeblood and grabbed him with invisible fingers and ripped him from the rush.

It had not been pleasant. The sensation of detaching from the intangible state of being that he had been for so long was the most painful thing that Sephiroth had ever experienced, even though he had not possessed a physical form at the time. And then he had emerged as reality folded unto itself on the physical plain and found himself at a stream's edge in the middle of a wood that he knew he couldn't recognize if he tried.

And for the first time in over a thousand years, Sephiroth opened his mouth and let crips air fill his lungs. He pressed his pale feet into the white sand near the water's edge and stared in wonder as the dark liquid creeped past. It took a moment for his mind to kick in, for him to start thinking like a living, breathing human again, to appreciate the warmth of the sun on his bare skin and sensation of his toes sinking in the sand, to comprehend the tranquil silence tempered only by the occasionally scurrying of wildlife in the woods around him.

And finally, to acknowledge how much he had changed. It was interesting to discover that he still had some buried sense of vanity. Sephiroth was nearly as shocked by the absence of his long, silver locks as he was about the whole "being alive" affair in general. His eyes were too dark and certainly nothing so spectacular as they once were. His body was still fairly muscular, but his torso presented a sudden thinness that he was all at once unhappy with.

He appeared frail, even ill, as he took in the changes. Most horrifying of all though, he felt weak. Sephiroth could not fathom weakness in himself. He shifted first left and then right, and was mortified when he stumbled, barely catching his balance. He was just beginning to fall into a panic about the entire situation when he heard the sound of retreating feet.

Caught off-guard by the possible presence of another living being, his eyes sought out the source of the noise and surely enough, a woman could be seen in the distance, walking along a dirt trail that cut through the center of the Wood. Curious and impulsive, Sephiroth made to follow her, not accounting for his state of undress or his sudden appearance, though of course, he did not know that the woman had seem him materialize from essentially thin air and the thought of such a mundane need as clothes had yet to be remembered.

In trailing after her, a good ten yards between them, Sephiroth movements went from something of a clumsy lope to a steadier walk and finally to an even stride that was nearly graceful. He felt the faint burn of activity in his body and the warmth of blood beneath his skin. Even though he had no idea why the Planet had purged him from the lifestream without so much as a warning, Sephiroth found himself smiling, the muscles in his face stretching with unpracticed effort.

He started catching up to the woman, who increased her pace as she heard him approaching.

"Wait!" he tried to say, but his voice came out in a scratchy garble that was utterly humiliating. Fortunately, poor Rhea did not hear his botched attempt at speech, but he did continue to shadow her at a slightly more sedate pace, until she'd had enough of his stalking. Though truly frightened, Rhea stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face him with a stern glare.

"Sir," she said harshly, "why are you following me?"

Sephiroth had already stopped walking, and he cleared his throat before attempting to answer her question: once, twice, three times before it finally took, and he was able to rasp, "I don't know."

This was not a comfort to Rhea, who was having a difficult time keeping her eyes on his face when far more of him was on display that was strictly appropriate, but she did not trust him enough to turn her back on him again.

"Where are your clothes?" was her next question, and Sephiroth finally realized his state of undress, and felt bad enough about it to appear chastised about it.

"Stolen?" he said uncertainly.

Rhea raised a skeptical brow.

Realizing how stupid that sounded, Sephiroth's mind finally clicked into gear, and he hurried to add: "I was swimming in the creek, but I think I slipped and hit my head. When I woke up I was rather confused, and my clothes were gone."

"So you decide to trounce after the first person to happen by without even so much as an explanation. You're really quite suspicious, you know. Are you a Black?"

Utterly confused by that question, Sephiroth chose to ignore it and replied, "I'm still a bit dazed, Ma'am. I apologize if I caused you any distress."

"Indeed," Rhea said sharply, but she dug through the satchel she had slung over her shoulder and pulled out a brown cloak and tossed it to him. Sephiroth caught it easily and tied it around his waist quickly, as it was far too small for him to even attempt to wear the garment properly. At least for now it hid all the important bits.

"Thank you," he said, truly grateful. "I have to admit that I'm a bit lost. Where are we?"

"This is the Narga Forest. The town of Narga is another mile up. Perna is about three miles back."

"Narga? Is that a town?"

"Yes."

"And Perna: another town?"

She was giving him an odd look, to which he quickly added: "I'm really quite new to the area."

"Perna is the capital city," Rhea explained. "Where are you from?"

"Midgar," Sephiroth said, without missing a beat.

"Oh." Rhea said, relaxing slightly. "You're one of that lot then. Must have come from the North. How did you end up in the middle of that forest without passing through the town first?"

Sephiroth gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Well, you don't seem so bad, I guess," she announced. "I'll take you as far as Narga, but then you're on your own. You got a name?"

He opened his mouth to give the standard reply and caught himself just in time. Sephiroth knew that a great deal of time had passed since he had died, a great deal as in centuries at least, but he knew that his real name might cause a stir even now. After all, he hadn't exactly been a saint back then, and the fact that Midgar registered with the woman said a lot about the sort of things that the people of the present would remember.

History was a truly funny thing.

"My name is Seth," Sephiroth finally voiced. Seth was close enough to "Seph" that he thought he could at least stand the moniker. _Ah_, and there again rose that streak of vanity that he had long since forgotten.

Rhea nodded marginally in acknowledgement and started walking again. Sephiroth followed at a polite distance, matching her step for step. Eventually, the silence got the better of him, and he started the long slew of questions that would lead him to understanding the world he had just been thrust back into.

"What's a Black?" 

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Cloud pushed his hair over one shoulder. It was getting ridiculously long, he knew. Where his golden dresses were once kept short and spiky, they now dipped down to the base of his spine, all in one glorious golden length. He sighed as he moved to replace the dimming contacts that hid the ceaseless glow of his vibrant blue eyes. With the contacts in, however, that luminescence was smothered down to a very tame dark blue.

No one was privy to the truth of Cloud Strife - not even Neron, the powerful Black who owned half of the city of Perna, despite the Emperor's claim, and whom Cloud lived with as a "kept" White.

Cloud turned before the bathroom mirror, eyeing the complex designs etched into the white garment that clung tightly to his skin. To this day, he still didn't know what possessed him to become a White. The clothes for Whites were always form-fitting and unmistakably feminine, and being a White meant admitting submission to those who dared adorn themselves as Black.

On the streets of Perna, you rarely saw any individual wearing another color. It was Black, or White, or else. And once your position on the matter was established, you would be seen as strictly that. In the ways of this Emperor, they were urged to choose by the age of 16. To those who had been around for the Emperor's take-over, the choice was gradual, but once made: permanent. It was even recorded by the Emperor's book keeper.

Cloud wondered how people would react if he traded the sultry White attire for the black ensemble he kept tucked away in a highly secured storage container across town, along with his complex sword, an assortment of materia [perhaps some of the last in existence], a number of sentimental keepsakes, and an outdated motorcycle. He also wondered how his modern friends would react if Cloud ever revealed the truth of his nature. He was a creature of legend, and an undying one at that.

To the man called Neron, Cloud told a carefully crafted set of lies, the greatest of which was that he had an age-hindering disease that kept him looking young. Neron called this false disease a blessing, and Cloud silently thought him some kind of idiot, but his other modern friends were just as quick to take him up on the lie. Too easily, Cloud conceded that declaration of stupidity and thought them all far too trusting - especially since hardly anything he'd ever told them held an ounce of truth. But Cloud had spent far too long in the dark. Centuries had passed with him living on the outskirts of society, tired and sad and alone and, worst of all, _remembering_.

His past was a barbed and prickly thing.

Aerith stopped frequenting his dreams centuries ago. His friends had all passed, save for Vincent, who had hidden himself away nearly 500 years ago to escape the monotony of passing time. Cloud, however reluctantly, was a man of action. He couldn't hide himself away, nor could he forget all of the things that had happened over the past thousand years.

He could, on the other hand, allow himself to be a submissive personality for a few decades. After long periods of being alone, Cloud had decided to put himself in a position where he didn't have to care exclusively for himself. It was freeing, in a way, and slightly stemmed the turmoil of things past.

There was a gentle knock on the bathroom door and Cloud forced a smile on his face as he opened it.

"Ready yet, Sky?" Neron asked impatiently.

Cloud stepped out, turning so that Neron could observe the white floral patterns drawn tightly over his form. The piece was a full-body garment that ended in long sleeves tempered by silver bands around Cloud's wrists, making them appear delicate. He wore white boots of soft leather that rose half way up his calves. A pearl dripped from each of his ears and a complicated necklace made of white bone was wound around his neck.

In the beginning, he had found this sort of attire humiliating, but now he took it in stride.

"It will do," Neron voiced, though his dark blue eyes gleamed with appreciation. Cloud smiled and latched onto the other man's arm.

"I thought we'd walk today."

"Sounds nice," Cloud said as they departed Neron's impressive mansion. As they made their way onto the street and people started filtering past, their eyes lingered on Neron as much as Cloud, undoubtedly the most admired White and Black couple in the neighborhood.

Neron was a feast for the eyes to be certain. He was tall and broad shoulder with deeply tanned skin. His hair fell just past his shoulders in feathered layers, and his bangs were tied back to keep them out of his eyes. He walked with the confidence of a man who knew precisely where he stood in grand scheme of things, and he wore Cloud on his sleeve proudly.

Cloud admired the man. He was military, a Lieutenant, and 3rd in line to the Emperor's throne. Neron was certainly clever, though he possessed a keen since of humor that reminded Cloud of long lost friends. Neron knew nothing of Cloud's past, however, nor his real name. Cloud had introduced himself to the man five years ago as Sky Feral and no one had dared question him.

Neron had fallen deeply in love with Cloud almost immediately, and Cloud had liked Neron enough to accept his affections, enough so to eventually permanently register as not only a White, but _Neron's_ White.

Cloud's backstory was carefully contrived. To all who knew him in Perna as Sky, he hailed from a small town to the East, lost his family in a tragic accident, and left to find a better life in the city. There he met Neron and explained that he had an aging disease that prevented him from ever looking any older, though his lifespan was that of any other man's.

The lies came with little guilt now. After all, Cloud had been telling tales for a thousand years, and now did so simply to keep his secret safe, though he still flinched guiltily whenever someone spoke of the Legends of Old or when someone mentioned the Ancient City of Midgar that was now an abandoned ruin partially swallowed up by the sea. The people remembered the tale of the Warrior and The One-Winged Angel, though it had been a few centuries since anyone had spoken the name Shinra or Jenova. Most of the truth had been lost to the passing of time, but the lesson was well remembered.

On the bustling streets of Perna, Cloud and Neron neared the stadium, strolling casually and greeting passers-by with familiarity. They were eventually joined by two other Blacks and their accompanying Whites. The dominant/submissive system had really taken off in the past ten years, especially since the Act of Black and White was passed by the Emperor's council.

Friends in tow, Cloud and Neron found their way into the gates of the stadium, and minutes later took their seats in the private section for the wealthier patrons. As the other Blacks and Whites settled around them, Cloud allowed Neron to put a possessive arm over his shoulders and relaxed marginally as his friends conversed before the show started.

The stadium was open a lot this time of year. It hosted an assortment of events annually, but none were so popular as the sword tournaments. Everyone loved the tournaments. Controlled violence was such a fun source of entertainment, and Neron was particularly a fan. Cloud was often forced to fake enthusiasm for the event, however. Having a sword mastery that far outstretched that of present day fighters often made it difficult for him to enjoy the show as much he would have liked.

Neron himself was a swordsman, but he had forgone participating in the tournies when his work in the military became more demanding and eventually left him with a skill set that much of the local competition couldn't hope to match. He was a highly respected swordsman in the area, and some even thought him the best in the city. Cloud always wanted to laugh when heard people speak that way about his Black. If only they knew how good a master swordsman could _really_ be, but he supposed it wasn't really his place to say. He was enhanced, after all, and the Planet basically regarded him as a WEAPON now. Cloud didn't even think of himself as human anymore. Any boasts that he might have to make would feel like cheating.

And with that thought, repressed memories tried to force their way to the surface of his mind. Cloud recalled epic battles that toppled cities, and facing down an enemy that he would never, ever forget - an enemy that he often missed so fiercely that he _ached_.

"What's up, Sky?" said Elda, another White, as she nudged cloud in the side with an elbow. "You're quiet today."

"Thinking is all," Cloud replied gently. "I'm a bit tired."

She tsked, then perked up when trumpets sounded, as did, for that matter, everyone else. Determined to get his mind off of painful memories, Cloud leaned forward in his seat and watched the first two competitors make their way into the arena as the announcer's voice echoed around the stadium and sunlight draped across the structure from the glass ceiling overhead. Another testament to how things had changed, Cloud realized, a glass ceiling would have been a horrible idea back in his day, when SOLDIER'S fought aerial battles because their velocity simply couldn't keep them grounded.

He raised a hand to his shoulder, scarred beneath the expensive with cloth of his outfit, and rubbed it gently as the ghost of pain flourished there. The scars that Sephiroth inflicted never seemed to fade, and the pain was a sharp reminder at why Cloud should be happier that the man was long, long dead.

A sharp clanging reached Cloud's sensitive ears, and he glued his eyes to the fight as the two swordsman attacked each other viciously. The fight lasted for only a few minutes; the fighters' movements were harsh and practiced but utterly unprofessional to Cloud's trained eyes. Anyone with a bit of silver in their pockets and so much as a butcher's knife could enter the tourney nowadays. It was almost disgraceful.

The crowd roared as one opponent fell, the winner's blade pressed to his heart as he lay sprawled on the sand-swept arena floor.

_Pitiful_, Cloud thought, but aloud he said, "Not bad," and returned Neron's approving smile when it was offered.

For at the moment, Cloud was not Cloud, but Sky: a kept White in the city of Perna with no particular destiny at all.

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Sephiroth had been living with Rhea for nearly a month when finally he dreamed of Aerith. The lifestream was a familiar and surprisingly welcome sight to the slumbering Sephiroth, and he nearly allowed his subconscious to surrender to the security that it offered before Aerith appeared and stopped him from slipping into the river of death once more.

"Hello, Sephiroth," said the Cetra girl softly. "How's the land of the living treating you?"

"Awful," he drawled. "I'm weak as a kitten and all of my hair's gone."

Aerith threw back he head and laughed. When her giggling finished, Sephiroth asked, "Have you figured out why the Planet sent me back?"

She nodded. "The Planet senses danger approaching. Things are going to get bad soon, and it fears that Cloud cannot handle things on his own."

"Cloud..." Sephiroth whispered. "I haven't seen him. I'm having a hard enough time adjusting to this White and Black thing."

"He's in Perna," Aerith explained. "Though he's not calling himself Cloud anymore."

"I'm not surprised," Sephiroth admonished. "I'm Seth at the moment."

Aerith nodded. "Cloud is a WEAPON now. He is the Planet's greatest defense: its protector, but he needs help sometimes, and he has grown..._complacent_ as the centuries passed. I fear that he's lonely. He may not realize the danger this time until it is too late."

"That's where I come in?" Sephiroth guessed.

"Yes, the Planet trusts you now, sees you as one of its children. Now that Jenova is gone, you are safe."

"I can't be much help this way, though," Sephiroth pointed out, running a hand through his hair, and pausing when he realized that he appeared in this dream world as he had before, with his glorious silver hair present.

Aerith smiled. "Your strength will return gradually. You were so strong back then, even without Jenova's influence. For the Planet to return to you that much power will take time."

Sephiroth understood. "What is the threat this time?"

"I don't know," the Cetra admitted. "There is simply a feeling of foreboding. The Planet doesn't understand her children as well as you might. She thought you would be the perfect candidate to figure things out."

"I don't think Cloud will be happy to see me."

"He might surprise you. Either way, once your power is regained, you will be as he is: immortal and unable to join the lifestream."

"Okay...but Aerith?"

She tilted her head to one side and offered him an inquiring smile.

"Is there any way that I can get my hair back? I look ridiculous."

She laughed again and patted his head, green eyes bright. "I'll see what I can do."

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Sephiroth woke up with a jolt in Rhea's home. He breathed heavily for a moment, before pulling himself out of bed and heading to the small bathroom across the hall. His reflection in the bathroom mirror caught his eye, and he was a little disappointed to see that his hair was still just a slight fuzz across the top of his head. He would have to live with the fact for a while. Aerith worked hard, of this he was sure, but results weren't always instantaneous, not even for the showgirl of the Planet.

Sighing, Sephiroth started his morning routine. He left the bathroom a few minutes later, going to sit in the small kitchen until the sun rose and Rhea finally woke up. Her boy, Jera, was still sleeping in the back room.

"I'm leaving today, Rhea."

She gave him a sleepy look and sighed. "I had a feeling you might soon. Guess I'll have to find another sitter for Jera, eh?"

"Sorry," Sephiroth said shortly, "but I have business in Perna."

Used to his strange antics, Rhea simply shrugged and shuffled around the kitchen to start up the coffee maker.

"You got money?"

"What I've saved from odd jobs around town," he admitted. "It's not much, but it's enough."

She nodded. "Alright. When you get to Perna, you'll have to go register as a Black, before you can do anything."

"I'm grateful for everything you've done for me," Sephiroth said quietly. "I'll return the favor when I'm done there, though I don't know how long that will be."

Rhea turned around and smiled. "I know. You're a good man, Seth, even if you are the idiot who followed me home naked one day in the forest."

He rolled his eyes. "You'll never let me live that one down, will you?"

She smirked. "Nope. So, you want breakfast before you leave?"

"Sure." 

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It took Sephiroth most of the day to walk to Perna, and another just to cross half of the bustling city to make it to the registry. He registered as a Black, calling himself Seth Valentine (having long since learned the name of his real father) before he walked back out into the busy streets and found himself pausing.

Step two was to find Cloud, but he knew it wouldn't be easy. Perna was easily twice the size of Midgar, and overflowing with people. First, he bought a set of clothes from a thrift store. The all-black ensemble suited him well, and he drew far less attention to himself by dressing in something other than the multi-colored clothes that one of Rhea's male friends had loaned him. He also felt far more at home in the black jeans, black T-shirt, and worn leather boots as he traversed the streets of the city.

He grabbed a cheap meal at a small corner café and made conversation enough to learn that this part of the city was particularly crowded today because of a popular sword tournament that was taking place in the local stadium. If there was any place that Sephiroth knew Cloud would be drawn to, it would involve swords.

It was dark by the time Sephiroth found the stadium, and the ticket masters let him through without a fee since the main events for the day were already over. It also helped that even without his mako-eyes and obvious other amenities, Sephiroth was still a rather intimidating man. His steady gaze and controlled movements kept most people from getting in his way. But not all.

There was a party going in the ritzier lounge area on one side of the stadium, and Sephiroth slid in past the door guards with ease. Most people in the lounge were dressed in black and they conversed enthusiastically at the round tables spread throughout the room. Clustered in a corner were a handful of Whites that Sephiroth paid no mind to. He couldn't imagine Cloud presenting himself as a submissive, so his eyes regarded only the Blacks as he swept them over the room searchingly. When the results came up unsurprisingly negative, he decided to try another approach. Aksing the locals seemed the smartest way to find Cloud. After all, the blonde was hard to miss.

Sephiroth slid into an empty chair at a table of Blacks like he belonged there. However, the conversations all immediately dropped and a dark-haired man eyed him speculatively.

"New in town?"

"Yes," Sephiroth said, his powerful voice drawing even more attention than physical presence alone. He slid back in his chair and relaxed visibly, as if to say, _I cannot be intimidated by the likes of you_. "I'm from Narga."

"I've a cousin in Narga," the dark-haired man drawled, and Sephiroth mentally acknowledged that this man had quite a physical presence alone, not to mention the gall to voice a fact with a tone intending challenge. Cocky bastard. "Bartholomew's the mayor."

"Ah, I know him only by name," Sephiroth admitted. "I'm looking for a friend in this area."

"I tend to know the people's comings and goings," the man said, leaning back in his chair as the others watched the transgression with a mild intensity. Sephiroth wanted to roll his eyes. Blacks, he had noticed, thought themselves superior to Whites. It had given them an air of arrogance that was often frankly undeserved. They were as socially territorial as teenagers. It was revolting, but Sephiroth knew that he had to play along, if he was to ever find Cloud.

"My name is Seth Valentine," Sephiroth offered.

"Neron Dellshire," the man returned, smiling openly, though there was a tilt to his head that threatened authority. "_Lieutenant _Dellshire."

_How obnoxious_, Sephiroth wanted to growl, but said instead: "My friend's name is Cloud Strife." Giving Cloud's real name was a bit of a risk, but from what he had learned for his short time in Narga, the world remembered the Warrior who had brought down the One-Winged Angel, but had likely forgotten his name entirely. Interestingly enough, if you dug far enough in the local computer databases, the name "Sephiroth", however, still spawned some alarming results.

"What a strange name," said Neron, glancing around the table questioningly. "I don't recognize it, nor it seems, do any of my friends, and we're not likely to forget such an unusual name as that."

"Like Sky?" tossed in one of the other Blacks, grinning widely at Neron, who only offered the other man a glare.

"Don't make fun of my White, Hasur. At least I have one, and Sky's the best there is."

"Then maybe you should stop fucking those other Whites behind his back, eh?"

The others broke in with light laughter, and to Sephiroth's disgust, the man named Neron chuckled along with them.

"In that case," Sephiroth said, trying very hard to hide his annoyance, "I think I'll be off."

"As you see it, stranger," Neron said with a grin. "Maybe we'll run into each other again once you've found your Cloud."

Sephiroth nodded and left the table, and was halfway across the room when an all too familiar voice sounded from where he'd just left.

"Who was that, Neron?"

Sephiroth was so shocked that he nearly ran into a server. The man glared at him before tottering off with a tray of drinks. Ducking around a group of Blacks near the door, Sephiroth stepped into an empty corner of the room and let his eyes search out the owner of the familiar voice.

His mouth fell open at what he saw. Cloud Strife looked positively nothing like Sephiroth remembered. The blonde's hair was preposterously long, falling to his lower back in an even length. The style didn't particularly suit him, and his eyes were the wrong color, too, Sephiroth noted, though he supposed that that could be explained away easily enough. Cloud probably wore contacts to hide the mako-glow of his eyes. It was oddly ironic that Sephiroth's hair had been sheered short while Cloud's fell absurdly long, and the ex-General found himself utterly jealous of the other man. What worried Sephiroth even more was the intricate white number that Cloud was wearing. It made him look as dainty and fragile as the female Whites that Sephiroth had seen thus far.

_Predators are often pretty, _Sephiroth reminded himself, recalling quite a few colorful and gorgeous monsters who had done quite a number on his person in the past.

The worst part of the scenario was the way Cloud had draped himself over Neron's broad shoulders, nuzzling carelessly at the man who (common knowledge dictated) slept around. Sephiroth strained his only marginally enhanced hearing to eavesdrop on the conversation, and frowned even deeper when it was clarified for him that Sephiroth's "Cloud" was now Neron's "Sky".

If fully enhanced, Sephiroth knew he would have already marched back across the room, separated Cloud from the moron, and beat Neron into a bloody pulp. As it stood, the great ex-General was tempted to do that anyway. He highly doubted that Neron could hold his own even against an unenhanced Sephiroth. On the other hand, Cloud would probably terminate him permanently, thus leaving Sephiroth to retreat back to the lifestream and face the Planet's disappointment and (in all likely hood) wrath.

Instead, Sephiroth left the lounge, situated himself near a dark part of the hallway exit, and waited for his ancient enemy and Neron to depart, trying not to think about how seeing Cloud with that moron made his blood boil.

***PageBreakTime***

"Who was that?" Cloud asked, laying his forearms on Neron's shoulders.

"Seth," Neron said, reaching over to pull Cloud into his lap. Cloud allowed himself to be pulled. After all, it wasn't every day that he got to use Neron as a makeshift seat, though the eventual erection that pushed suggestively against his ass was utterly unwelcome.

Though it was no longer an uncommon practice, Cloud refused to participate in public displays of intimacy, no matter how much Neron wanted him to.

Neron put his hands on Cloud's hips, occasionally sliding one between the blonde's legs under the shadows folds of the tablecloth. Cloud wiggled at the contact and resisted the urge, as he often did, to show Neron just how submissive he _wasn't _and that his touches were not always welcome.

"A new Black in the area. He was looking for a friend."

"Who?" Cloud asked, slumping a bit so he could lean his head back on Neron's shoulder. _Makeshift pillow_, he reminded himself.

"Someone with a name even weirder than yours, Sky," said Hassur.

"Cloud," Neron said, mouth close to Cloud's ear, and he automatically tensed.

"W-what?" he stuttered, eyes widening.

"Cloud. Do you know someone by that name?"

"No," Cloud said after a moment, trying to hide his surprise. "But it is a weird name, isn't it?"

Neron chuckled in his ear and the Blacks carried on their previous conversation. Cloud, however, was a bit panicked. Someone was asking for him? He hadn't really recognized that Black from earlier, though to be honest, he hadn't gotten a good look at him from all the way across the room either. Still...there was only one person alive who knew his real name, and that was Vincent. Maybe Vincent had hired someone to look for Cloud, but he couldn't really imagine the ex-Turk trusting someone else with that information.

If not Vincent, then _who_?

Cloud pondered over the problem until Neron declared that he'd had enough for the night and they left for home. As Cloud and Neron walked down the darkened streets of Perna, Cloud got a familiar itch between his shoulders. He tried to ignore it, and made small talk with his Black until they got home. However, even then he felt the strange sensation, though he identified it easily.

Someone had followed them home. It was curious that this would happen on the very same night that someone had been asking for Cloud. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Cloud ushered Neron inside their home with a fake smile, claiming he wanted to walk around the grounds for a bit. In reality, he walked back to the main gates in front of the mansion, crossed his arms, and waited: listening. He stood for nearly ten minutes in the dark, and there was not a single indicator that he had any sort of company. However, that feeling of being watched never once subsided.

Finally, he grew impatient enough to simply say: "Look, who ever you are - I don't know what you want from me, but I don't appreciate being stalked."

No one answered, so Cloud just shrugged and went back inside.

Hidden in some bushes barely three feet from where Cloud had just been standing, Sephiroth let out a relieved sigh. That had been entirely too close.

***PageBreakAlert!***

Sephiroth set up in a coffee mill on the edge of Perna. It was a fair distance from where he now knew Cloud lived and it smelled positively awful, but they offered him a salary and a place to stay for some simple work and Sephiroth wasn't about to pass up the opportunity. He worked nonstop for nearly six weeks straight before he even attempted to see Cloud again.

With enough money saved up, Sephiroth purchased some more clothes and a rather pathetic looking old broadsword from a pawn shop in a shady neighborhood. He had just enough money to get by, plus enough to enter the sword tournament, if he wished.

Since he hadn't swung so much as a stick in the entire time since he'd re-emerged from the lifestream, Sephiroth significantly doubted his prowess with any kind of weapon. His body was noticeably starting to change, as Aerith had promised, but not nearly fast enough for him to confidently march into an arena. He settled instead for joining a shoddy gym close to the coffee mill, and after attempting a basic kata that he performed _terribly_, Sephiroth estimated that he was probably only slightly stronger than your average idiot.

Extremely disturbed by how weak he was, Sephiroth practically lived at the gym when he wasn't working, practicing the sword and training his body until it started to feel like his own again. He pushed himself enough that his muscles burned away the stiffness that he associated with his untrained form, and there was no time that he wasn't utterly sore from the workouts. At the crux of six weeks, he was starting to scare away the other people in the gym, getting more eager and demonstrative as his strength slowly returned. He was finally kicked out with a small refund as penance: the staff half terrified that he would swear revenge and take them out for doing so.

The sword tournaments were still in full swing, and Sephiroth finally stepped back into the stadium on a clear Saturday afternoon. He got a cheap seat, and though his eyes desperately scoured the hundreds of other fans, he couldn't spot Cloud in the mess of Whites and Blacks, though he expected the blonde was situated somewhere far more appealing than the nosebleed section.

After a month and a half of pining and being generally enraged about Cloud's position on Neron's arm_, and_ about the man being a White, of all things, Sephiroth's temper had finally cooled into mere irritation. But Planet help Neron if he and Sephiroth ever crossed in a dark, empty alley. Unfortunately, that would probably never happen as Sky never seemed to leave the Black's side.

Sephiroth sat stock still in his seat as a cheer went up around him and two armed men faced each other in the arena. What followed was what might have been the most pathetic display of swordsmanship that he had ever witnessed. The ex-General was somewhat embarrassed for the morons thwacking each other with blunted swords in the arena. He vaguely wondered when in the scrawl of history that swordplay had become a joke.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Whites and Blacks of all ages! Next in the arena we have a three-time champion Neron Dellshire facing off against newbie Don King!"

The crowd roared far more enthusiastically than they had thus far, and Sephiroth grimaced as Cloud's Black made his way into the arena. He had heard about this from some of the people at the mill - that Neron was a fighter in the arena, and a good one, but that he had stopped fighting three years ago because he claimed that grew bored of always winning and that he needed to focus on working for the military. How odd that the man chose this day to reappear in the ring.

A trumpet blast set off Neron and Don King into a flurry of clanging metal. Neron was draped from head to toe in pure black leather [much to Sephiroth's annoyance], and his hair was pulled back into a high ponytail that looked positively girlish, but the bulging muscles of his arm dismissed that notion easily. He was obviously a seasoned fighter. He caught openings that many of the previous swordsmen hadn't even been aware of, but...

But by Sephiroth's standards he was positively abysmal. The man carried a gleaming rapier that he gripped improperly, thus kept nearly dropping after powerful swipes from directly above. His footwork was sloppy and his recovery time was downright shameful, but he clearly had the strength to make up for it, and he was a lot faster than his opponent. Neron took the other man out in less than a minute and the crowd went wild.

The victor waved cheerily to the crowd before cockily reseating his blade and disappearing back into the stadium. Sephiroth was fuming as he swept out of the structure only moments later, too peeved to even stick around and watch any more of the fights

and postively _itching_ to get his hands on a decent weapon again

How could Cloud possibly put up with someone like that, when the blonde himself could wipe the floor with that pompous asshole blindfolded with both hands tied behind his back? Sephiroth was halfway to Neron's mansion when he realized where he was headed. Cloud was still back at the stadium, he knew, so where was he even going? Getting an idea, Sephiroth ducked into a convenience stored, purchased a pen and a small pad of paper, and continued his trek to the mansion.

He had an idea.

***PeigeBrake***

Cloud and Neron took the car back to the mansion that evening. Neron, of course, never drove. He had his own personal driver and a car that was expensive and showy. Neron was proudly basking in Cloud's attention, as the blonde murmured sweet nothings into the other man's ear like the good little White that he often pretended to be.

They got home quickly.

"Wait for me in our room, Sky," Neron demanded more than asked.

Cloud, in an agreeable mood, complied by going to their bedroom and stripping off his clothes. He was just turning down the bed, when he noticed a piece of paper sitting on the nightstand.

"That wasn't there this morning," he muttered, moving to retrieve it. The piece of paper was obviously just some cheap stationary, and it was folded in half. The alarming part came when Cloud unfolded it and found his real name scrawled across the top.

_Cloud,_

_You looked better with short hair, and white really doesn't suit you, but that's not important.__ The Planet needs you to pay more attention.__ Something bad is on the horizon.__ Open your eyes._

_Yours,_

_SV._

"Who the hell is SV?" Cloud hissed, as the door handle turned. Startled, Cloud darted across the room and slipped the letter into his top dresser drawer. Neron walked in, regarded Cloud's nudity appreciatively, and then worked his way to the bed. Cloud, ever the obedient White, followed. 

***GetJiggyWithIt***

Cloud was sitting at his regular table at a local cafe with a fellow White the next day, worrying his bottom lip as he fiddled absently with a steaming mug of tea.

"I'm surprised you're still with him, Sky," Elda was saying. "He really doesn't deserve someone as nice as you."

"Yeah, well. Neron's not that bad," Cloud argued, though his heart really wasn't in it.

Several tables away, Sephiroth eavesdropped behind a lunch menu. He'd been sitting there for 30 minutes, and kept insisting to the waiter that he hadn't made up his mind yet about what he wanted to order. The server was getting irritated with him. Unfortunately for that guy, Sephiroth really, really didn't care. He was far more focused on the conversation that the two Whites were having. It seemed that Sephiroth wasn't the only one who didn't care much for Neron.

"It's because he's your first, isn't it?" Elda was saying. "I mean, honey, he's a catch, but there are far more fish in the sea - _better_ fish."

"He's not my first," Cloud said, looking startled.

Edla froze. She looked as if Cloud's words were some kind of revelation. "What?"

The blonde shrugged and avoided meeting her eyes, but Sephiroth was paying rapt attention, blood boiling under his skin. Who _else_ did he have to fight for Cloud's affections? The man had been alive for a thousand years - there was probably a damn _list_. Not that Sephiroth expected to have much of a chance with Cloud, mind you. They may both be going to live forever, but Sephiroth was deadly certain that Cloud would run the nearest pointy object through Sephiroth's heart the very moment that the slighter man discovered that his arch enemy once again lived.

"There was a man I knew a long time ago," Cloud said, a distant look in his eyes. "I adored him, but he ended up being a really bad person."

"Oh, honey," was all Elda said, understanding crossing her eyes. "Neron has no idea, does he?"

"No."

"And you still love that first man?"

Cloud glanced up, eyes deceptively dark thanks to the contact lenses, but no less sad for them. He said, "yes."

Sephiroth bristled. It was bad enough that he knew he'd have to deal with Cloud's past affections for a handful of women, but now this? This was so much worse! Sephiroth finally waved the waiter over, ordered a java to go, and departed the café in a huff.

He hadn't even begun to figure out what crazy bad thing was happening to the Planet yet either. As he rounded another street corner, a voice broke through his angry reverie: "Well, well, well. If it isn't Seth Valentine."

Oh this asshole was just asking for it. Sephiroth did his best to look civil as he greeted the speaker: "Neron."

_Rhymes with moron_, Sephiroth tacked on mentally.

"Care to join me and my buddies? We're going to a party uptown." Neron was indeed surrounded by a group of Blacks, most of which looked half drunk already. Sephiroth wasn't really in the mood to deal with a bunch of deviants, but he knew that this might be the best way to do some information gathering in the city.

"Sure," Sephiroth said without enthusiasm, and joined their group as they crowded their way into a limousine. Sephiroth stayed relatively silent, watching the others converse until they reached a skyscraper in the middle of the city. Meanwhile, Sephiroth mused over the fact that time changed very little. People and even _places _were still as boring and predictable as they had always been.

It wasn't until they were all situated near the top of the building in a condo full of loud music and drunk idiots, that Sephiroth started to play an old game. He had never been a turk, but he _was_ undeniably a manipulative bastard. The party was Blacks only and more than a few of them were putting on disgusting displays of profanity of various surfaces. Sephiroth found a drunk Black in a corner, smiled seductively and pulled the idiot closer. The other man automatically latched onto Sephiroth's neck and he used that as a cover to overhear one of Neron's conversations with a group of beefy-looking Blacks.

"They've pulled some really interesting stuff from that ruin," one of them was saying, regarding Neron in a suspiciously military fashion. The man speaking stood very nearly at attention. "_Midgar _is a gold mine of lost technology."

Sephiroth nearly fell over in shock. Midgar? He had heard that the place was a ruin and there was even a small village on the shore nearby that claimed the name of the fallen city. Surely after a thousand years, everything potentially useful had rusted away to dust.

"I know that already," Neron said sharply. "What did they find this time?"

_This_ time? What did they find _last_ time?

"Hard drives in an airtight vault. It's amazing, Sir. Our specialists have actually been able to access the information on them with modern computers."

Sephiroth barely resisted the urge to kill everyone in the room right then and there. He had definitely made a wise move in coming here today. If this new military had access to information from back then, then they potentially had access to things about Cloud and Sephiroth himself. Sephiroth was horrified by the idea that they might know about things like SOLDIER. And what if they found out the truth about Cloud? His protective instincts were reeling.

Neron was sprawled on a chair several feet away from Sephiroth, who wriggled under a clingy drunk's wandering hands and mouth. No one seemed to even notice them. The plan was working perfectly.

"Do tell," Neron purred, "what sort of information did we get?"

"A lot," the other Black said almost gleefully. Sephiroth understood that he was one of Lieutenant Neron's underlings, but aside from Zack, he himself would have never let one of his soldier's get away with such uncomely behavior. Then again, he wouldn't be spouting information about something that was very likely classified at a seedy party.

"The language has changed a bit, but it's still discernable, even to me. There were maps of entire facilities, run by a company or something called Shinra."

Sephiroth practically ached for Masamune at that moment. These fools know about Shinra, yet they had no idea how potentially dangerous that information could be.

_Humans are so stupid_. Jenova's voice whispered through Sephiroth's mind, and he was horrified for one heart-stopping moment, until he realized that it was only his memory and not the actual thing.

The soldier spouting off secrets was now sitting adjacent to Neron. "We have ancient weapon designs," he continued enthusiastically. "They may be outdated, but they work completely differently than ours do now. They had a formal military and a bunch of technology that we've never even dreamed of. In many ways they completely outstripped us technologically. I think if this Shinra thing still existed, that they could stomp us into the dirt."

Neron rolled his eyes, as if the very idea were ludicrous. "Doubtful," he said.

Sephiroth grimaced. Doubtful? Try _with certainty. _If such a battle were possible, any modern army would merely have been a bit of bloody filth on some Shinra SOLDIER Third's boots.

"I don't know," said another man, presumably another underling. He looked to be the deferring type, Black or not. "I've seen it, too, sir. Even if their technology couldn't beat ours, their military could. It was the era of the Warrior who defeated the One-Winged Angel, and from what I've seen, their soldiers were biologically enhanced. They were incredibly strong. _Impossibly_ strong."

Neron now looked interested. "Enhanced how?"

"Some kind of chemical solution that they derived from the Planet itself," said one of them.

"And Uncle Reginald knows of this?" Neron wondered.

"Yes, sir. He's known for ages. I have it under good authority that Emperor Reginald has already instated a program to enhance our own soldiers based on the findings in Midgar."

Sephiroth drew in a sharp breath.

"Explains why he wanted to hire so many scientists to work for the city last year. How long until this enhancing thing comes to fruition?"

"A few months. Heard of the Nova project? That's what it really is."

Neron smiled, thanked the two men, and subtly steered the conversation back to normal topics. Sephiroth tossed his half-drunk idiot disguise onto the closest available surface and snuck out of the party without being noticed. He practically raced across town to the coffee mill, locked himself up in his room, and dropped into a chair to think.

"Aerith, I need you," he whispered. "This is far worse than I ever thought it could be. I'm really, really, _really_ going to need my strength back soon."

_And I really need to talk to Cloud_. 

***KaerBegaP***

Cloud sat in his regular seat the stadium. _Just another day in paradise_, he thought with a yawn. The fighters were finishing out prelims today, which always ended with a special event. Usually, they plucked a random person from the crowd, brought that person down to the arena and let that person "fight" with one of the fighters. On several memorable occasions, a grandma, a two-year old, and a dog had been selected.

Today, Neron was going to be the one participating in the event. He would fight the randomly selected person and try to be showy and even humble about it. It was ridiculous, in Cloud's opinion, though admittedly a tad amusing.

The announcer called for the event to begin, and read off a random seat number from the crowd. Cloud more or less heard the commotion as people in that section made a hell of a lot of noise to show their enthusiasm as a tall Black rose from his seat and made his way down to the arena. The man was too far away for Cloud to properly identify him, so he watched and waited with everyone for the play fight to begin.

***ThisIsNotAbrokenPage***

Sephiroth was a bit stunned when his seat number was crowed into the microphone and suddenly everyone around him was urging him to go down to the arena to take up a sword. He was certain that everyone was expecting him to make a fool of himself, but the ex-General found himself smirking as he made his way down to the arena, because Neron was the fool leading the show today, and Sephiroth was more than happy to have the opportunity to humiliate him in front of hundreds of his admirers.

Including Cloud.

Sephiroth was hustled into the arena and an assortment of swords was laid out on a table before him.

"Well, if it isn't Seth!" Neron said, eyes amused. "Pick your weapon, Seth my friend, and don't worry; I'll go easy on you." The idiot winked.

Sephiroth smiled in a way that he knew could make a hardened fighter's skin crawl, and Neron's friendly façade vanished in an instant.

"You might not want to go easy on me," Sephiroth purred, picking up a katana - the least favored blade in this arena - and checking the balance expertly. He ached for his nodachi, but hadn't seen its like here. The weapon (to most) was deemed entirely too impractical. After clarifying that the katana wasn't a complete piece of junk, he gripped the handle with his left hand and followed Neron out into the center of the arena. The crowd cheered and laughed like it was one great big joke and Sephiroth just couldn't wait to prove them wrong.

He watched Neron drop into his customary (flawed) fighting stance, blade drawn, and Sephiroth unthinkingly fell into his own ready-pose. Smiling a bit, like he thought Sephiroth was a total idiot, Neron moved to the left and Sephiroth, playing along, moved right. They made nearly a complete circle, before the ex-General lost his patience.

And the dance began.

Sephiroth flew across the arena, swiping up, down, and across in almost the same instant. Neron blocked the three blows but wasn't prepared for the fourth. In mere moments Neron was wide-eyed with shock, desperately fighting back, and Sephiroth wore the look of the confident General that he once was. 

***BreakPageBreakerBreaker***

Cloud's jaw was on the floor and so, apparently, was everyone else's. The stadium had gone dead silent when the randomly selected Black had darted across the arena in a near-blur and started hashing at Neron like a fucking hurricane. Cloud watched as his Black was utterly overwhelmed by this stranger who didn't even appear to be tiring. The blonde snapped his jaw shut, however, and let his eyes widen further still when he noticed that the mystery swordsman had a flawless, scarily _familiar_ technique.

Truly worried, Cloud started counting in his head, matching the stranger's swipes of the sword to a familiar beat.

"Side, swipe, down, back, dodge, sweep," Cloud whispered under his breath, horror budding in his chest. Elda, sitting to his left, grabbed Cloud's arm when he stood up from his seat.

"Sky? What are you doing?" she hissed.

"He's playing with him," Cloud's expert eyes saw. This mystery swordsman fought like a monster, but he was clearly only teasing his opponent, drawing out his careful control for all to see. The only mistakes that Cloud could see were probably invisible to everyone else. This stranger swung his katana too short sometimes, only barely reaching his opponent, but reaching him nonetheless. Like someone who is used to having a far longer reach, Cloud realized. Or perhaps as just an insult, like a cat pawing at mouse before killing it.

Neron went down in two minutes, and by that point, Cloud's heart pounded in his chest, his adrenaline soared, and he was eying the mysterious swordsman with something akin to dawning horror. He tasted bile at the back of his throat, mako-tinged, and his pupils might have been slits for all the electricity that was coursing through his body as the panic (hope) (excitement) set in.

When Neron lost, no one cheered, but a nervous applause followed the victory after a long collective gasp from the audience. The announcer accompanied a cameraman out into the arena to address the victor, as Neron picked himself up from the dirt and slipped back into the stadium. Cloud's eyes were glued to the huge screen mounted over the opposite end of the structure.

When the camera finally focused on the mystery man's face, Cloud fell back into his seat with a gasp, because though he had known it already, it was still a shock to see that face again.

"What is wrong with you?" Elda said worriedly.

Cloud didn't even hear her as the announcer started talking.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected!" he said to the victor, grinning widely. "What's your name, sir?"

"Seth," was the only response he received.

"Anything to say to the crowd today, Seth?"

Cloud watched as the man who had defeated Neron stare at the microphone for a long moment, before decisively saying: "No."

He then promptly turned on his heel and left the utterly befuddled announcer and cameraman to their own devices. As the two moved to fill up the space left by victor's odd departure, Cloud leapt up from his seat and ran inside the stadium walls with Elda shouting worriedly after him. He made it down only one level before colliding into his Black, who looked utterly pissed.

"Neron," Cloud breathed, wanting nothing more than to, for once, ignore him. "Are you...?"

"I'm fine. Where are you going?"

"Um, I was coming to find you," Cloud lied, and now he knew he couldn't present a good reason to keep running. He was just about to bolt, regardless of Neron's opinion, because honestly? Stopping Sephiroth was _much_ more important. He didn't have to do anything, though because Sephiroth himself appeared behind Neron and gave Cloud a familiar smile.

"Good to see you," he purred, and Neron nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise.

He whirled around to scream in Sephiroth's face: "What the everlasting _fuck_ is your problem!"

Sephiroth ignored the question spectacularly, his eyes locked on Cloud and giving the blonde chills. Cloud was so rattled by shock that the only thing he managed to say was this: "What...you...but...your hair?"

Sephiroth's resulting expression was almost comical in its distress.

"I know," he said uncharacteristically. "She told me that it would grow back, but it looks absolutely idiotic, doesn't it?"

Neron looked positively outraged. "Sky...do you know this man?"

Cloud absently nodded, and even Neron noticed that his hands were balled into fists at his sides and that he was completely tense as he stared down the silver-haired Black.

"I'm not here to cause you any strife," Sephiroth explained, stepping around Neron like he was an inanimate object. The ex-General then paused and smirked at the irony of his own words, but Cloud didn't appear to get the joke.

The blonde opened his mouth to speak, but Neron suddenly, violently, _stupidly_ jerked Sephiroth back by the shoulder. Cloud feared very much for Neron's life in that moment. He was so concerned in fact that the words - "Don't kill him!" - fell from his lips before he could think about it.

Neron looked even more furious at that and Sephiroth himself was starting to get irritated. Ignoring Neron once again, he leveled a piercing glare at Cloud and hissed: "Do you remember _nothing_ of what you are?"

The words were enough to make Cloud's brain start turning again. His stance became more aggressive (head ducked, shoulders drawn up, legs spread apart and braced) and he glowered mightily at Sephiroth, and spoke fiercely. The sound was like nothing that Neron had ever heard from the White's mouth.

"I know exactly what I am and who I am, and what that is is absolutely _none of your business_."

"Seriously? Do you have any idea how shocked I was to learn that you had turned yourself into a White? _You_?" Sephiroth had the gall to laugh, though his words had been as light and smooth and cutting as ever. The man had a knack for never raising his voice, speaking quietly, and yet still managing to get his point across with a vengeance.

"Why are you here? And how?" Cloud growled, and the sound seemed to register with Neron on a spiritual level, because he completely lost his composure.

"What is going on here!" he shouted angrily.

Sephiroth looked thoughtful for a second, before saying, quite cheerfully, "you're a moron."

Neron looked like he was about to bust a blood-vessel.

Cloud took a threatening step forward. "Leave," he said sternly, regarding Sephiroth.

The ex-General drew himself up to his full height and all traces of amusement vanished from his face. "I cannot. I have a duty to the Planet."

Cloud's resolve actually faltered. "What do you mean _you _have a duty to the Planet?"

"It's happening again," Sephiroth said carefully, finally eying the fuming Neron. "We cannot allow it."

Cloud laughed sharply. "How can that be possible? This coming from _you_?"

Sephiroth stared outright at Neron, and Cloud felt his stomach do something unpleasant. Was Sephiroth implying that Neron had something to do with this?

"I expect we will see each other again soon," Sephiroth said flatly, walking past Cloud, and throwing in, "and I told you, didn't I?" He stopped and spun around, facing Neron and Cloud with a smirk: "_I will never be a memory_." 

***IjustLovedThatLineOkay***

As soon as they got home, Neron started yelling, and as soon as they got home, Cloud abandoned all pretense of being submissive. He let Neron shout for a while, but the moment the man reached out to roughly grab Cloud's shoulder, Cloud ripped his hand away and pushed him hard to enough to make the other man stumble across the room.

"It's not my fault that you lost to him," Cloud snapped.

"How do you know him!"

"He's from my hometown," Cloud explained, probably the first truth he had ever told the man.

"Old _friends_?" Neron said, voice heavy with jealousy.

"Enemies," Cloud snarled angrily. "And a much bigger problem than your inability to take a loss."

"Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you're talking to, Sky? I am your Black! You have to obey me. It's on the contract that you signed when you agreed to be my White."

"I would have to, if Sky Feral was actually my name," Cloud retorted, arms crossed. "And if I actually cared to follow the laws of a crazy old Emperor."

Neron paused, wide-eyed and wondering. "Who the hell are you?"

"It doesn't matter," Cloud said with a sigh. "I'm leaving anyway."

He aimed for the door, walking, but Neron's voice traveled across the room and froze him in place.

"_Cloud_," the man said in recognition. "You're the man he was looking for back then, aren't you?"

"Yes," Cloud said with conviction.

"Don't leave." The plea was desperate. "I'm sorry...just...wait."

Cloud frowned. He hadn't expected the man to be apologetic. _ He did declare his undying love for me three years ago_, Cloud recalled. He turned, crossing his arms and waiting to hear what the other man had to say.

"You can stay. I'm sorry that I lost my temper. It's just...you're not acting like yourself and I can't stand that man, and I don't know what to do! I feel like I'm losing everything!"

Cloud felt marginally sorry for the guy. He had taken care of Cloud for the past three years, after all. He was a friend.

"Fine - I'll be back by morning." And with that, he slipped out of the house and onto the city streets. 

***PageBreakery***

Cloud was having a hard time grasping the obvious. Sephiroth, apparently, worked at a run down coffee mill on the edge of Perna, had gotten himself kicked of two different gyms for "terrifying the staff and other customers", and everyone in the area thought he was a jerk. It was all a far cry from the super-soldier reputation he had once wielded like armor.

There was a small apartment building next to the coffee mill for local workers, and Cloud was arguing with the receptionist. He had been trying to track down Sephiroth all day, now that his temper had cooled, and was tired of dealing with people who clearly didn't like the man.

"Look, I don't care if you are his friend - I'm not allowed to just give out that kind of information," said the receptionist for the third time.

Cloud sighed. "I already know that he lives here, Ma'am. I just need to talk to him."

She rose a skeptical brow. "You a stalker or a bill collector? Either way, the answer is still no."

"Then how about a compromise? Tell him that Cloud is looking for him."

"Sure," she said with a smile, and looked past Cloud. "Hey, Seth? Cloud here is looking for you."

Cloud turned around and glowered. "I've been arguing here for twenty minutes."

The ex-General smirked. "I know. Follow me?"

Cloud gave the snarky receptionist one last glare before following Sephiroth down the hall to his apartment. Once they were inside and seated on a rather pitiful looking sofa, Cloud began:

"I'm assuming that you have a story to tell me, seeing as you haven't attempted to chop my head off yet."

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. "A few months ago, the Planet purged what remained of me from the lifestream. I only recently discovered the reason why."

"How?"

"Aerith," Sephiroth said carefully.

Cloud sunk a little in the chair, and his eyes grew a little more distant. "You know her? You _killed_ her."

"Yes," Sephiroth admitted, looking guilty. "I did, and trust me, she lectured me about it long enough. I won't lie. I had no conflicts with doing so when I ran her through, but now I do regret it."

"Why?"

"Jenova's influence is a powerful thing Cloud. You have felt it before, but only to a miniscule degree. I am far more susceptible to her inclinations. Not everything that I did was utterly by choice."

"You can't blame Jenova for all that you did," growled the blonde, pushing a wild strand of his ridiculously long hair behind one ear.

"I won't," Sephiroth conceded, "but I am not entirely to blame."

Cloud looked troubled. "With all that happened...you were raised as an experiment, left to Hojo for most of your life, and then thrown into Shinra, and then you were exposed to Jenova. I never blamed you for everything, but you did try to kill me a lot and people who mattered to me. Your actions led to the deaths of so many...you can't expect me to forgive you for that."

"I'm not asking for forgiveness, Cloud. That's not why I am here."

"Then specify!"

Sephiroth straightened and looked Cloud dead in the eyes. "Then I'll explain it to you as it was explained to me. You are a WEAPON now. It is up to _you_ to protect the Planet. I have not fully regained my strength yet, but in time I will, and then Planet will use me as a WEAPON as well, except my job is not to defend the Planet; it is to protect you."

Cloud tried to let the words sink into his brain. "I don't need defending," he said quietly.

"I am aware of that, but the Planet seems to think otherwise, and Aerith agrees."

"Basically, you're going to help me whether I want you to or not?"

Sephiroth smirked. "Exactly, and at the moment, you don't even know what we're up against."

Cloud sighed deeply and massaged his temples, as if nursing a particularly powerful headache. "Tell me."

So Sephiroth did. He relayed the information to Cloud that he had learned at the party for Blacks only. Knowing did not improve Cloud's mood.

"We can't tell them who we are," Sephiroth said finally.

"Planet, no!" Cloud agreed. "But we still have to act."

The ex-General looked thoughtful. "They already have started a program similar to SOLDIER, so we can't steal the information and expect it to be effective. I heard no indications that they harvesting mako to use as a power source, though at this point, it's probably only a matter of time. You can try talking to Neron."

"He won't listen," Cloud admitted. "I know he won't. He'll take me directly to the Emperor if I so much as let on that I know anything about this. He may be a bit of a brat, but he's loyal."

Sephiroth snorted. "As if he could contain you."

"Not without help," Cloud corrected. "I'm not invincible, Sephiroth, and neither are you. It took an army to take out Zack, but it still happened."

"The Planet would revive you."

"If they knew what we really were, we'd become their star projects. They wouldn't kill us. They would use us for their project. It only makes things worse that there are gong to be other enhanced running around. This isn't going to be simple"

Sephiroth was thinking rapidly, his precise military brain kicking into gear. "We will have to dismantle this empire and destroy everything that they pulled from Midgar along with everything else that the information was potentially copied to. Also, kill everyone involved."

Cloud laughed humorlessly. "You say that like it's no big deal. Destroying an empire? Wiping out everyone?"

Sephiroth shrugged. "We should also destroy whatever remains of Midgar so this can't happen again."

"Or so they don't get their hands on anything else." Cloud looked really unhappy about all of this.

"There is no other way, Cloud. I don't particularly want to go on a killing spree."

The blonde grimaced. "When will you be back at full strength?"

"I'm probably about half way right now. Another month perhaps?"

He nodded, then stood from the old couch. "I need to show you something." 

***PageBreaksAreNecessary***

It was a large high-security storage unit in a less populated part of town. Cloud opened a variety of locks before the huge sliding door finally opened, revealing the mess of old possessions inside. Cloud turned on a light and pulled the door closed behind them.

"Two motorcycles, updated over the years," Cloud explained, "along with as much materia as I could gather, my sword, and a few keepsakes, but nothing damning."

Sephiroth observed the two huge bikes studiously. They looked a lot like the ones he remembered, though nothing like the ones that he had seen in this modern age.

"They're much more maneuverable and hold up to damage better than modern bikes. After all, they not just for transportation. I originally built Fenrir to withstand combat." Cloud explained all of this as he moved to a pile of things in one corner. "I keep First Tsurugi in the bike usually, but...well."

Sephiroth gawked as Cloud pulled forth a very long, thin object, wrapped in cloth. He laid it across the two bikes and offered Sephiroth a grim smile.

"It was hard, finding it, but the mako reactor in Nibelheim eventually did dry up. Couldn't find a trace of your original body, and I don't know how you managed to manifest the same sword in your other ones...but, I kept this."

Sephiroth swept forward, carefully unwinding the black cloth from around Masamune.

"It's made of Damascus steel, but I used materia on it constantly to protect the blade. After all, I wasn't exactly easy on it when I fought. I was constantly worried that it would break in battle."

Cloud inhaled sharply. "I've got some of your old stuff as well. I pulled a lot from the Shinra building after...everything."

Sephiroth gave Cloud a quizzical look, and the blonde dumped a huge bag next to the ancient sword.

"Your customary leather attire," he said bluntly. "All in air-tight bags. I don't know if they're any good anymore."

"You saved my clothes?"

Cloud blushed. "I...yeah. You were...a long time ago, you were my hero, you know? I guess some of that feeling never really left me. So in the end, I found whatever was left of you and put it somewhere safe. I have mementos for all of the people I cared about, and...well, you were one of them."

Sephiroth smiled and then let his eyes sweep meaningfully up and down Cloud's form. "I'm assuming that you still have some of your old clothes hidden away in here? Ready to ditch the white? It really doesn't suit you and..." Sephiroth reached forward and pushed some of Cloud's hair behind his left shoulder. "I really miss your spiky hair."

Cloud was glowing with embarrassment. "I..um..._ahem_." He cleared his throat and took a step back, almost knocking over a crate in the process. "Not yet. For now I'll keep the White. I'll switch back later when the time comes."

Sephiroth frowned. "What do you mean? What will you be doing between now and then?"

Cloud shrank a little. "Staying with Neron. He's our best source of information."

Sephiroth frowned. "But you didn't find that out until just a few hours ago."

Cloud seemed to collect himself. He stood up straighter, letting some of that old stubbornness shine through. "He's not the best person in the world, but he's not a psychotic murderer either. I owe him for the past few years and-"

"-he cheated on you, treated you like a submissive twit, and acts like a child when he doesn't get his way."

Cloud sighed. "I know, but I...I have to do this, Sephiroth. I don't have anywhere else to go."

"I don't believe that for a second," Sephiroth growled. "For one, you could stay with _me_, and two - I'm not an idiot. As long as you've been alive, I know that you have a stash of cash hidden somewhere. Not to mention..." Sephiroth gestured around the stuff in the room for emphasis.

"If I leave him now, we'll have half the city turning against us. He's 3rd in line to the throne and everyone is somehow indebted to him."

Sephiroth held up Masamune meaningfully. "I could take care of that easily."

Cloud glowered. "Murder is not the answer, _Sephiroth_."

Sephiroth's resulting glare was just as impressive. "We've already established who we have to kill, and he is definitely on the top of that list."

"He's a good source of information," Cloud countered.

"For now." Sephiroth sighed and took the point at face value. "I really don't like the guy."

"Why?" Cloud appeared genuinely perplexed. "I mean, I know he was kind of a jerk today, but...he's normally pretty friendly."

Sephiroth stared at Cloud pointedly. "He has what I want."

"What is-? Oh. _Oh_." Cloud blushed profusely and his crossed his arms. "I...really? When did..._why_?"

"I noticed you the first time you ever set foot in Shinra, Cloud, and...well, even in the throws of madness, I constantly sought you ought. I constantly teased you in those fights, always pushing you to the brink. Do you have any idea how many opportunities I had to kill you in those battles?"

Cloud shuddered. "I...yeah, I noticed."

"Why do you think you always won? I adored fighting you Cloud. I lived for it. You were my equal in strength, but I was still _the_ General Sephiroth. I won't say that your skill had nothing to do with your victories, but I yearned to fight you. You were the first and only person whom I could truly fight against and hold nothing back. Even under Jenova's influence, I kept ignoring the urge to kill you in favor of having another chance to face you in battle. Nothing has really changed between us. I still want to own you: body and soul."

Chills crawled up Cloud's spine, but he couldn't decide if they were the good or the bad kind.

"When this battle is over...what will happen to you?" he asked.

The ex-General smiled. "I will be here so long as you are. Always." 

***SephIsOnePossessiveBastard***

Neron was at work, dressed to the nines in his daily military uniform with a gun at his hip. He had just learned that he was going to be one of twenty officers who would be injected with the experimental serum that their scientists had derived from information from the Ancient Ruins of Midgar. Though he wasn't keen to be anyone's guinea pig, he reveled at the idea of being enhanced and the fact that he might have a chance to get back at Seth Valentine.

He sat in a room with the technical experts, as they pulled data from the ancient computer hard drives and salvaged it onto the huge monitors on the walls.

"This one's talking about some kind of reactor," one of the female techs was saying. "Engineering plans...and something called mako?"

"I've got something about their military on this one," said another. "It looks like their chain of...holy shit!"

Everyone in the room jumped at her exclamation and crowded around her.

"What is it?" Neron, being the highest ranking officer present, commanded.

"Wait a sec. Let me cross-reference this first...and...aha! Wow, that is crazy."

"Explain!" Neron growled.

The tech turned around in her swivel chair, looking excited. "You know the legend of the Warrior and the One-Winged Angel?"

"Everyone knows that," said an Ensign dismissively. "The angel tried to destroy the world and the warrior stopped him."

"Right, but do you know the angel's name?"

"Sephiroth," Neron recalled easily. He had loved that story as a boy.

"Right!" said the tech. "Well, you're gonna love this. Leading this Shinra military was a man named Sephiroth. No last name listed. He was a General, it says here, when things went to hell."

Excited exclamations went up around the room.

"Other names?" Neron wondered, truly intrigued by the idea that the One-Winged Angel had actually been a part of Shinra.

"Well, there was a president, and a vice president, and heads of different departments in the company. The rest of the army was led by a few Commanders. The rest are listed as simply Firsts, Seconds, and Thirds - whatever that means, and then there was a simple ranking structure for the infantry. They separated the enhanced and the ordinary. And get this: all of the enhanced used swords, while the infantry used guns."

Neron frowned. "That's stupid."

"Not really," said the other tech. "Some of the information that we pulled before suggested that the enhanced were so powerful that bullets didn't always slow them down, and that they were faster to react with swords."

"Faster than guns?" someone gasped. "But that's close combat! It doesn't make sense."

"We won't know for sure until the new serum is tested."

"When will it be ready?" Neron asked no one in general.

"Two weeks," said the Ensign.

He nodded. It really couldn't get there fast enough. 

***PageBreakyNess***

When Neron got home from work, Cloud was sitting in one of the mansion's living rooms, reading a book. Neron stood stock-still in the doorway.

"You're back," he acknowledged, but that wasn't as reassuring as the other elephant in the room. "What did you do to your precious hair?"

Cloud's golden hair was now a mess of gravity defying spikes.

"Felt like a change," was the only answer he offered. He eyed Neron's uniform with a frown. "How was work?"

"Fine."

"Anything interesting happen today?"

"No," Neron lied. He never talked about work to Cloud. "Why are you asking?"

"Curious, I guess." He stood up and stretched. Neron eyed the stretch of skin that appeared when Cloud's shirt rose up from the action. "I've been here all day. I think I'll go out for a bit and see Elda."

"Sure," Neron said with a small nod. "I'm going to relax then. Be careful?"

Cloud smiled, though Neron could tell that his heart wasn't in it.

***CaterToThePiningFools***

Two weeks after Sephiroth's talk with Cloud, the ex-General woke up from a dead sleep because he was choking. He sat straight up in bed and panicked for a second, yanking at the wild thing that was wrapped around his neck. It took him a moment to realize precisely what that thing was, and once he did, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get to the bathroom mirror.

Long locks of silver hair fell down Sephiroth's back, and he let out a grateful sigh when he saw his own green eyes glowing brightly back at him in the mirror. Grinning from ear to ear, Sephiroth retrieved his cell phone and called up Cloud in the middle of the night.

Unfortunately, Neron answered.

"Hello?" the bastard said grumpily into the receiver.

Sephiroth was too thrilled to complain. "I need to speak to Cloud."

"Sky is sleeping," growled Neron. "Why the hell are you calling our house in the middle of the night? He doesn't want to talk to you."

"He said that?"

Neron made an irritated sound that wasn't precisely denial, and was interrupted by Cloud's soft, sleepy voice: "Who's on the phone?"

"Cloud," was all Sephiroth had to say. He knew that Cloud's sensitive ears would pick up his voice even through the phone's speaker. He must have gotten a hold of the phone, because Cloud eventually replied: "What?" as Neron made a fuss in the background.

"I'm ready."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and then Cloud affirmed: "Okay."

"Tomorrow night at the storage unit?"

"Morning," Cloud said shortly, not saying anything else because he knew Neron was listening. "The Lime Café. I'm bringing Neron."

"What? Cloud, no. That's a terrible idea. Why?"

"To make amends," Cloud said simply. "He wants to."

"You have got to be kidding me. Did you forget what we talked about before?"

"No."

"Then..." Sephiroth's voice trailed off as realization struck him. "What's changed?"

"You'll see.'

"I can't though...my hair grew back." Sephiroth sounded slightly proud of the fact.

"What? All of it?"

"Yes."

"Shit."

"Can't you just tell me?"

"No," Cloud said, sounding frustrated. "I can't."

"Is he having you watched?"

"_Yes_," Cloud said sharply, as if he had been waiting for Sephiroth to realize it.

"That's why you haven't contacted me since-"

"-yes."

"Is that what you needed me to know?"

"Yes but no. It's not all."

"Cloud," Sephiroth almost laughed. Cloud was just so comically frustrated. "The solution here is simple. Dump Neron. You haven't gotten any new information out of him, right?"

"Just the one thing."

"The same thing that you want me to see?"

"Yes."

Sephiroth sighed. "I'll be there, but I'm serious Cloud. _Dump him_."

"Tomorrow," Cloud said sternly. "I will."

Sephiroth could tell that he wanted to say more, but couldn't. "I'll come tomorrow and see whatever it is that you're panicking over, but I won't approach the two of you. I doubt that idiot will recognize me now. Oh, and fair warning, I'm going to wear my old clothes."

Cloud's audible gasp made Sephiroth grin.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Cloud."

***PaaageBreak!***

Cloud sat across from Neron at the Lime Café. They took up their usual table outside, both sipping quietly at tea and chatting with their fellow Blacks and Whites, when suddenly there was something of a commotion.

Everyone paused and moved to see what was going on. Cloud's heart nearly stopped at the sight of none other than General Sephiroth as he best remembered him: silver hair shining unnaturally silver and wrapped from head to toe in form-fitting black leather. His eyes weren't glowing thanks to the dimming contacts that he had picked up that morning, and Masamune was, of course, still safely tucked away in storage, but Sephiroth made a striking figure regardless and everyone wanted to know who he was.

Cloud almost laughed at the fact that no one recognized him as Seth, however, Sephiroth was now at full strength, and his mere presence at the café chilled the air. People instinctively pegged him as a predator and kept their distance, even if they didn't realize it. The wait-staff wouldn't even approach the man as he reclined in a café chair, perusing the menu with a mild look of interest.

"Well, what a stir," Neron said, turning back around and rolling his eyes. The other Whites and Blacks at the table chuckled in agreement. Cloud, however, kept his eyes on Sephiroth until the man gave him the slightest nod.

He had seen what Cloud needed him to.

The issue at hand was this: two days ago, Neron had returned home from work with glowing blue eyes, and Cloud had barely resisted the urge to take him out then and there. It was as if, in that moment, the blonde had realized the true danger of the situation at hand.

Now he had no reason to stay.

Cloud rose from their table, saying something about the bathroom, and almost got to escape, but Elda followed him. She joked feebly about the silver-haired man until they reached the restrooms, when Cloud turned on her.

"I'm leaving him," he said simply, and Elda only smiled.

"Finally," she retorted. "You have been rather distant with Neron lately. Got your eye on another Black?"

Cloud's smile was tired. "Yes." He leaned around Elda, still smiling, and waved at Sephiroth, who had quietly followed them inside. Elda's jaw dropped as Cloud slinked forward and wrapped his arm around the other man's. He winked at Elda as the silver-haired man led them out of the café. 

***CalmAcceptanceIsTheirWholeRelationship***

Later that same day, Sephiroth and Cloud stood on the cliffs overlooking the ruins of Midgar. Cloud was dressed in all black with a silver wolf design gleaming from the pendant on his chest and the clasps of First Tsurugi's harness situated uniformly across his torso. The sword itself shone brightly in his right hand.

Sephiroth stood at his side, his silver hair blowing in the wind, and Masamune's handle comfortably gripped in his left hand.

They shared a quick look and then dove from the cliff. The next day, Emperor Reginald's archeologists were shocked to see that the city ruins had been leveled.

***DamnTheyBeBadass***

Neron slammed his hands on the desk and the wood shattered under the force of his blows. He was on the base in usual building, facing his subordinates. "What did you just say?"

His underlings shared worried glances. "We still haven't located your White, and the ruins of Midgar have been destroyed."

"How is that possible?"

"No one knows, sir."

Sky had been missing for three days, and now _this_?

"What's the Emperor's plan of action?"

"He doesn't really care about the ruins, since we already found the enhancement solution."

"But who could have leveled a city like that?"

"We don't know."

Neron made a frustrated sound. "Fine. We'll worry about it later. How many soldiers are being given the serum?"

"Twenty more in two days."

Neron smirked. "Excellent." 

***PageCracker***

During their research, the techs working under Neron had found, to everyone's amazement, pictures on the old hard drives from Midgar. Neron, a few of his superiors, and a handful of other officers, were crowded into the analysis space to see the results.

With the press of a button, the tech brought up the first image on screen, and everyone in the room gasped at the gray building in the image. It was a skyscraper with the descriptor "Shinra Headquarters" in blue lettering across the entrance doors.

"Next," ordered Neron's Commander, and the second picture appeared, displaying a colorful lobby of what was presumably the inside of the building.

"It's an advert," one of the younger officers stated the obvious.

"Next," the Commander said again.

The next image was of an overweight man in a dandy suit and a taller, thinner man with similar features.

"Bet it's the president," said the tech, "and his son."

"Next."

A rank of soldiers appeared all wearing matching uniforms and helmets with guns slung over their shoulders.

"Infantry," identified the tech.

"Next."

"Is that a canon?"

It did look like a massive canon, reaching far over the city sprawled below. The picture must have been taken from the air.

"Next," said the Commander, sounding a little breathless. The pictures were a historical treasure. It was hard to believe that they were actually seeing images of the ancient city at all.

"Who is that?" someone asked.

Neron's mouth fell open.

On the screen was a silver-haired man holding the longest sword that Neron had ever seen, and he was dressed to the nines in black leather. His green eyes were glowing so fiercely in the image that they looked inhuman. His expression was set into a serious, deadly gaze. Across the bottom of the picture were the words: "General Sephiroth, Hero of Wutai, wants _you_ for Shinra's Army!"

"I've seen him!" gasped one of Neron's men.

"Me, too," admitted someone else. "Is that Seth Valentine?"

Neron's mouth clicked shut. It _was _Seth! That must have been him at the Lime Café when Sky had disappeared! What the hell was going on here? Neron turned a mighty glare on the technician. "Is there any possibility that these hard drives were planted?"

She looked uncertain. "They've been verified, sir, by five different experts. They're ancient.. I swear!"

Neron's Commander was frowning. "What about the earlier drives, the ones we found outside of the Shinra building two years ago? Can you pull any images from those?"

She nodded.

"Show us."

It took her a few seconds to bring up the other files, another few to run the program that would make them work again, and then finally, a series of new image files appeared on the screen. She opened the first one, and the room went dead silent.

The picture was of a dark figure suspended above a city of obviously damaged buildings. The sky was a dark swirl of black clouds behind him. Most alarming of all, the silhouette was flanked by one terrible, black wing.

Without being told, the tech clicked through the next few pictures. There were more images of the broken city, which already looked a ruin, a few of a terrifyingly large monster with wings, and finally, clusters of random people.

"The aftermath? WRO?" the Commander read from one of them - people gathered on a stage at some kind of event.

"That's the last of them," the tech said, closing the file, but Neron stopped her.

"You missed one," he noticed.

"It's corrupted. The program won't run it. I can try to correct it, but..."

"Try," ordered the Commander.

Ten minutes later, she made a small sound of victory and brought the last image up on the screen.

Even the Commander recognized the man in the final picture, for sitting on a huge black motorcycle, surrounded by a ragtag group of people, was none other than Neron's missing White.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: I'm not really sure WHY this website likes to screw with my formatting all the time. Barring that, I am humbled by all of your thoughtful, moving, and occasionally amusing reviews, and despite the flawed characterization and the occasional formatting error, I hope you all continue to read and enjoy this fanfiction.

Chapter one has been edited a bit more, one small chunk of needless junk taken out.

Please bear with the introduction of OCs, but I feel they are necessary for this particular story. I promise to keep them interesting. Most of you seem to have warmed up to Neron already, after all [or you hate him, either is gratifying for me]. You might want to take up the time to look up a "naginata", if you don't already know what it is. (It is not a sword.) Also, my OC Hangaku was named for a real female samurai. If you are so inclined, you might want to look her up as well. She's totally badass!

Finally, I am frequently getting asked about Vincent, and when/if he will show up. The simple answer is this: yes, he will...eventually.

**Far Beyond the End**

**Chapter Two**

Sephiroth remembered the first time he saw Cloud Strife. It was shortly after Angeal's death, when Zack had been mournful and a bit withdrawn, and when Sephiroth himself was still trying to wrap his mind around the seething betrayal and gut-wrenching loss of dear friends: one to madness and the other to death. And the blame was on the heads of Shinra and the Science Department.

Angeal's death and Genesis' abandonment had tipped the scales of Sephiroth's emotions into dangerous territory, and the passing of time did nothing to appease the budding monster that lived within his body and mind. At that point, his dreams were filled with darkness, tendrils of green, and Jenova's sweet and deadly voice. The seeds of insanity had already been planted, but were only just beginning to bloom.

In those days, Sephiroth had attempted to replace the two gaping holes in his life with a spikey-haired, loud-mouthed Zack Fair. Angeal's Puppy was also mournful, true, but his enthusiasm and optimism were as shining as ever, even if his eyes occasionally gleamed with loss. Their friendship was cautious and half-assed [at least on Sephiroth's end], though the General had cared enough to keep tabs on Angeal's protégé most of the time.

So it was that Sephiroth noticed the young man (with pale hair as ridiculous as Zack's) in nothing more than a passing glance. The General couldn't have told you the name of the infantryman whom Zack had taken a shining to. He could, however, tell you the color of the young man's eyes, the graceful way he seemed to acclimate to his clumsy nature when he thought no one was watching, and the precise manner in which he could wield a Shinra-issued assault rifle in the firing range.

Though, as stated before, the General noticed Cloud only in passing. The blonde was an afterthought that only slipped into Sephiroth's focus when the young man himself was present, and even _then _Sephiroth refused to acknowledge his lingering attraction for what it was. After all, Cloud had still been quite young, and (to Sephiroth's clouded eyes) could only be seen as the unworthy failure that did not even pass the SOLDIER entrance exam. And perhaps those failings were what had ultimately kept Sephiroth from taking a step in the right direction back then, but he would never _ever _admit that to the Cloud standing before him today.

Today's Cloud was sleeping soundly on Rhea's battered old couch, looking far more like an angel than even Sephiroth had a right to, and the ex-General was simply staring, awestruck.

Rhea walked into the room, hair tucked into a messy bun on the back of her head, and sighed. "Seth, you have got to stop doing that."

Sephiroth turned his head just enough to let her see his frown.

She rolled her eyes. "Sweetie, staring at someone while they sleep is really creepy."

"Where's Jera?" Sephiroth asked quietly, ignoring her subtle reprimand.

"At a friend's house for a few days." She moved over to sit in the empty chair next to Sephiroth's "You gonna tell me what this is all about?"

Sephiroth considered. He and Cloud had appeared at her doorstep just yesterday with a thousand years' worth of odd keepsakes, weapons, and two hulking combat motorcycles that were currently hidden in her shabby garage. She had taken one look at Sephiroth's pleading look, let them in, and didn't even bother asking about the man's sudden head-full of lengthy silver hair.

"I'm doubtful that you'll believe what I have to say."

She reached over, tugged pointedly on a long strand of his hair, and raised a skeptical brow. Sephiroth was suddenly, painfully reminded of Aerith, and realized with frightening clarity that he trusted this woman.

"Do you know the legend of Midgar?"

Rhea smiled sweetly. "Of course. I often tell the story to Jera when I put him to bed at night."

"Summarize," he ordered militantly.

She hummed, tilted her head back thoughtfully to stare at the ceiling, and recited: "They of Ancient Midgar harvested the blood of the Planet for their own fortune, and so a One-Winged Angel appeared to reap them of their fruits, bringing the city to ruin. The angel, born of hate and destruction, could only conduct the feelings from which he was born and so did not stop with vengeance alone, but sought to destroy all, and so summoned a meteor to crash to earth and kill all that breathed. So stepped forth a Warrior of Light, who fought the angel to its dying breath. Though the angel died, his memory lived on, the meteor still fell, many died, and now we call the lesson _Meteorfall_."

"Close enough," Sephiroth said, caught her eye, and pointed to the still-sleeping Cloud. "Warrior of Light," he declared and then gestured to himself: "One-Winged Angel."

Rhea's expression was deadpan. "I meant give me a _serious _answer, Seth."

"Sephiroth," he corrected, and she rolled her eyes and rose from her seat. "Going out for a bit."

Sephiroth sighed. "I knew you wouldn't believe me."

She left without a backwards glance, shaking her head in exasperation, just as Cloud stirred. Sephiroth moved forward, sitting on the floor next to the couch; resting his head on his arms and watching with eyes full of warmth as the blonde snuggled into his pillow. Sephiroth allowed himself a small smile.

This he could get used to.

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

The arena was empty, the stars were suspended against the dark blue sky above, and Neron was sliding with lighting speed through a training exercise with a gleaming black rapier, facing an invisible enemy with silver hair and a taunting grin. His mind raced as sweat poured down his back, beneath the form-fitting leather of his shirt.

He had accepted the idea that _Sky _could be _Cloud_, had quickly adjusted to the concept of his White being a secretive little bastard, had even allowed himself to believe that the slighter man had been swept away (kidnapped, taken, stolen, _unwilling_) by that asshole _Seth_,but he could not wrap his muddled mind around the idea of his White as some sort of immortal, ancient _warrior_.

That picture had done a number on Neron's sanity. Sky, _his_ Sky, was not what he seemed. Not at all. Not even a_ little bit. _That Sky, the one that was practically draped across that monster of a bike in that grainy image, was a confident, powerful man: a Black if Neron had ever seen one. He couldn't put the two together: Cloud and Sky, Black and White. It just didn't fit – didn't make _sense_. And what in the seven hells did _Seth _have to do with _Sky_? Why had they vanished together? Did it have anything to do with the now nonexistent remains of the Ancient City of Midgar? Could that silver-haired asshole really be _the _Sephiroth? The One-Winged Angel? Had the stories been wrong?

_Demolished_ was the word used for the Midgar ruins now. Not even dust, it was _mud_ in the ocean's grasp. Only the barest foundation remained, and even that was marred with gaping slices of missing metal and concrete that could only be seen in the early hours of the morning when the tide was out.

Neron sliced at his imaginary opponent again, could feel the blood singing in his veins. The power of his swing threw up a whirlwind of pale sand, and he paused in the intricate dance of swordplay to wonder - _could a sword do that to Midgar? _Determined now, the man drew his rapier up over his head and took a running start, and when he neared the far end of the arena, swung as hard as his arms would allow. An earsplitting _CRACK_ filled the air, and Neron's arms shook as his rapier was rammed deeply into the two-foot thick concrete wall that protected the bleachers from the melee. He grunted as he drew it out, the blade miraculously unmarred, and his mind was filled with all the possibility in world.

Was this the power of Midgar's long lost soldiers? He dropped his sword and slid to the ground in an ungraceful heap, taking a moment to catch his breath.

Did Sky possess such strength? Sky was his White. _His!_ Why, oh _why_, did the blonde ever leave his side? They were bonded, _paired for life_, and hadn't Sky said that he loved Neron? Sky_ had_ said it - more times than Neron could count, and every time had left Neron feeling more upbeat and happy and _in love_. So what had gone wrong?

Silver hair. Serious eyes. A disarming smirk.

Seth. _Sephiroth._

That man had been the tipping point for Neron's beloved Sky, though he still couldn't comprehend _how_. Neron picked up his sword and fell into another familiar rhythm. When the time came, he would enjoy slicing that silver-haired bastard apart, no matter who he was!

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Cloud stood in Rhea's kitchen, cutting carrots with all the expertise that Tifa's training afforded. A thousand years was a long time, but he never really forgot. Sephiroth was nowhere in sight. He was out picking up Rhea's son from some kind of extended sleepover. Cloud still wasn't very good with kids, and he was a bit nervous about the arrival of another child into his life. Children naturally clung to him. However, to Cloud, they were an easy road to dependency and failure, and the blonde had no idea what to do with either concept. He had offered to help make dinner when he heard Rhea puttering around the kitchen, trying to stave his own worries, and she accepted his assistance with an approving smile.

They hadn't talked much. Sephiroth was the bridge between them, and Cloud was actually marginally resentful of the woman for her easy bond with the silver-haired man.

"So," she uttered, fussing with a pot of boiling vegetables. "Seth claims that you're the Warrior of Light from the fairy tale."

Cloud paused in chopping the carrots and frowned at her. "A...are you joking?"

She turned to smile at him. "He's funny like that."

Cloud tilted his head slightly. "Huh?"

She chuckled. "I knew he wasn't being serious. You know when I first met him, I was walking to the city to pick up a few things, and I came across him bare-ass naked in the woods. I nearly had a heart attack."

Cloud's eyes widened a little. "_What_?"

There was a commotion from the front of the house and the pounding of quick feet as a blur of a child flew into the kitchen and wrapped itself firmly around Rhea.

"Ma, Seth's home!"

"Jera," Sephiroth chided, taking off the hooded coat that he had been wearing, "I don't live here."

"Pssssssh!" replied the little boy with disdain, as his mother returned her son's enthusiastic embrace. Sephiroth merely chuckled and moved over to Cloud's side, slightly brushing against him.

"Carrots?"

Cloud shrugged and smiled softly. "I learned a long time ago."

Sephiroth's eyes filled with something like pain, and Cloud was utterly perplexed as the taller man retreated out of the room rather suddenly.

"I think you upset him," Rhea observed, trying to pry her clingy child off her person. "Jera," she told the boy, "this is Cloud. He's Seth's friend."

Jera's face scrunched up in confusion as he detached himself from his mother and regarded Cloud with wide, innocent eyes. "But Cloud is not a boy's name! Are you a girl?"

"Jera!" Rhea winced and offered the blonde an apologetic look. "Sorry."

Cloud only shrugged in response and returned to his carrot-chopping duties. He was just relieved that Jera hadn't immediately clung to him. After a few moments, Cloud was dumping the raw veggies into the pot of boiling stew, and Rhea was frowning at the door to the living room.

"Maybe you should go talk to Seth?"

"Why don't you?" Cloud snapped back, and then immediately felt guilty. "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "I just...I'll go talk to him." He washed his hands in the kitchen sink, dried them on a towel, and then speedily left the room.

Rhea gave her son an exasperated look. "Those two boys are hopeless, Jera."

"Hopeless!" Jera repeated jovially.

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Sephiroth was sprawled across the bed in Rhea's single guest room when Cloud walked in. The blonde didn't bother knocking or even saying anything. He just gave Sephiroth a quick once over, slipped off his boots, and crawled in the bed next to him, throwing an arm over the other man's chest and pressing his face into his shoulder.

Sephiroth finally conceded: "What are you doing?"

"Snuggling," Cloud said softly. "I'm tired of the distance. What's the point of it? We both know that this is where we're going to end up anyway."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Sephiroth growled, but rolled on his side towards Cloud and wrapped himself around the smaller man. Cloud refrained from making an octopus joke, recalling Jenova's tentacles with disturbing clarity, and simply tucked himself further into the silver-haired man's embrace.

"Why did you get mad?" Cloud asked.

"Because too often I am forced to remember that you once belonged to other people."

Cloud huffed. "Since have I belonged to anyone?"

"Since now," Sephiroth muttered, implying his own manner of possession without actually saying it, but after a long pause, added, "if that is agreeable to you."

Cloud smiled against Sephiroth's chest, relieved. "It is _now,_ but you realize that ownership goes both ways."

"We're not talking about the Black and White thing, are we?"

Cloud snorted. "Wasn't that the epitome of foolishness? The emperor should be extricated."

Sephiroth wasn't amused. "Well, you seemed to enjoy being in white, _Cloud_."

"What about carrots made you think of the past?" Cloud wanted to know, ignoring the jab at his ego.

"Tell me the other thing first."

The blonde grimaced. "Fine. I wasn't talking about Blacks and Whites, just you and me."

Satisfied, Sephiroth answered Cloud's former question with another question: "Who taught you how to cook?"

"Tifa," Cloud said without thinking, and then he _realized_. The blonde turned a bit so that he could stare up and directly into Sephiroth's eyes, glow hindered by the contacts that they were both forced to wear. Even so, he was momentarily caught breathless at the sharp contours of the man's pale face and the silver bangs that framed it.

"She was my friend," Cloud explained, "never anything more than that."

"And Aerith...?"

"She was Zack's," Cloud reminded, but his eyes were sad. "The part of me that loved her like that was just leftovers of his conscience, I think. In the end, she was more like a sister to me."

Sephiroth's face twisted into something a little scary. "Neron?"

Cloud winced. "We used to be very close, but...it was temporary. I did the White thing on a whim, and he was far less of an ass when I first met him. To be honest, he reminded me a little bit of you back then."

Instead of looking appeased, Sephiroth looked disgusted. Cloud laughed at the other man's expression.

"I said _a little bit_, Seph. Calm down!"

Sephiroth contained his annoyance with that declaration and looked away as he said, "you've had lovers."

Cloud shrugged. "A thousand years is a very long time, and as much of an immortal as I might be, I'm still just a man, Sephiroth."

"Are they all dead?"

"Probably not."

"I'll need a list then."

The blonde quirked a brow until Sephiroth leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Cloud's pale lips. Caught off-guard, Cloud made a desperate sound in the back of his throat, reached up, and got a handful of Sephiroth's gorgeous silver hair. Sephiroth slowly pulled away and licked his lips.

"I'll kill everyone who has so much as shaken your hand."

There was a polite knock on the bedroom door.

"Boys, food's ready."

Sephiroth perked up. "Coming, Rhea."

"Not in my guest bed, you aren't!"

Cloud laughed and Sephiroth joined him, nuzzling against the blonde's arm.

"Hurry up!" Rhea huffed, and her footsteps could be heard retreating down the hall.

"I am so jealous of her," Cloud grumbled. "You _like _her."

Sephiroth snorted. "Idiot. Come on. It's just Rhea. She's a great cook."

Cloud made a face. "I helped."

"All the better," the ex-General chided, pulling Cloud out of bed and into a slightly awkward embrace, before practically dragging the man to the kitchen.

As they sat down at the dining table to eat dinner, Rhea grinned at them both, and happily proclaimed them idiots, before digging in to her plate, and for the first time in centuries, Cloud felt at home.

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Emperor Reginald was as esteemed as he was feared and he was Neron's uncle. The two sat at a long table with numerous associates: heads of different areas of responsibility. It was a fine mirror of a company long lost, except this one called itself an empire.

Emperor Reginald looked like an older version of Neron, save that his hair was absurdly long and arranged in a series of braids around his head and shoulders. His eyes were nearly black, and set under a heavy brow that gave him an air of seriousness that was rarely matched. He also sported a neatly trimmed beard that only seemed to give him an air of wisdom. He usually wore ceremonial robes that were reminiscent of long lost Wutai's ceremonial garbs, but a strong, flexible set of black armor and an assortment of weapons were always at hand if combat became necessary in close quarters. The emperor was no slouch in the ways of fighting, and his body beneath the layers of silk-blue and black robes was all hard muscle. His mind was also as sharp as crystal and quick as a summer storm.

Neron was seated towards the back of the table. He may have been third in line to the throne, but Uncle Reginald's daughter and true heir was the golden girl of the family. Her name was Hangaku. She was small for a woman and only moderately pretty. Where the modern era favored automatic weapons over swords [though at this rate, that was bound to change], Hangaku was professionally trained with the naginata, a weapon which she kept near her person at all times. Currently her naginata was leaning against the wall behind her chair, wrapped in royal blue cloth.

Between Hangaku and Neron were at least five respected individuals under Reginald's trust, that is, five on each side of the table, for a total of ten, and Neron resented every single one of them.

For this meeting, the information regarding Sky and the mysterious Seth had been presented to the Emperor, and the team's suspicions about Midgar's decimation were brought to light.

"So why haven't we capture the two fugitives yet?" asked the emperor. He turned to his daughter and raised a quizzical brow.

"Father, this is the first I've heard of the situation. It seems my Commanders thought the issue so important that they decided that it would be prominent to present to us at the same time."

"Unnecessary," stated Reginald, and then back to his underlings, "I am confident that my General can handle this issue on her own."

Hangaku sat up a little straighter, but her stoic expression never wavered.

Neron felt the familiar sting of jealousy in his gut. He didn't dare accuse the Emperor of favoritism. The man played little part in the actual structure of the Fighting Forces. He simply stepped back and let his General and Commanders take the reins. Hangaku had worked her way up the ranks on her own, and the leaders treated her as any other recruit. But for that, Neron hated her even more. After all, she nineteen now, and had recently acquired the rank of General. Her indoctrination into the army had been when she was twelve, after she had begged her father for permission. He was well-known for giving in to her every whim, especially since his wife had died at her birth. And of course, as clever and determined as she was, the Princess excelled quickly among the ranks.

Hangaku crossed her arms and leveled her dark blue eyes at Neron. "Cousin, is this information legitimate?"

He nodded. "My White Sky and the man Seth showed up in images that we pulled from the Midgar ruins."

She looked thoughtful for a short moment, before turning her gaze to the emperor. "Father, I would like permission to address this issue with Prisoner 231."

"Granted," the emperor said almost immediately, "you are dismissed to do so now."

"Excellent," she replied, and met Neron's eyes again. "Cousin, come." She stood from the table, snatching up her naginata, and made her way out of the council chambers. Neron quickly followed.

As they descended the dimly lit halls that lead to the dungeon, Hangaku dared ask: "do you still resent my superiority over your standing the army, Neron?"

"Of course not," Neron said sarcastically.

"I mean no disrespect."

"As always, you have no understanding of normal social niceties."

"I find them pointless and irritating," she said honestly, her dark ponytail swaying as she walked beside him. She tucked a thumb into her the overlarge belt that was draped over her hips and consequently, the dark gray overcoat with silver decorations that identified her as one of the Emperor's Generals. As she walked, her naginata teetered teasingly from her left hand, though Neron was well aware that she knew precisely where the covered blade swung with every passing second.

"Who are we going to see?" Neron ventured as the hallway grew slightly narrower and they passed through a series of barred doors. Hangaku opened each one with a set of metal keys that she unclipped from her belt.

"This man has been our prisoner since shortly before father's takeover of the city. To this day, we still do not know his real name, but he was pivotal in concocting the formula for the enhanced soldiers."

"Why have I never heard of him?"

"He's more irritating than he is useful," she said with a frown, leading him to a door labeled "231". She tipped a key into the lock, and then they were stepping into a dimly lit room. Neron froze almost immediately upon seeing the prisoner. The man was wrapped in so many chains that one could barely make heads or tails of his clothes or body shape. His hair was messy and auburn and his eyes were a medium shade of blue that glowed faintly in the pale lighting. The man looked positively ill; his skin was drawn tight across his face and what little could be seen of the rest of his body. The man was clearly barely conscious, but his eyes settled on Hangaku and flared with annoyance.

Neron was angry now as he was reminded once again that the Emperor never told him anything of importance. "He's already enhanced?"

"The original. He was like this when father captured him dormant in the Niju Mountains twenty years ago. He may look a bit haggard, but he hasn't aged a day since he was captured, and he rarely says anything new."

The prisoner smirked a bit and whispered: "_Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul._"

"He's mad," Neron observed, thinking that the words didn't make even a modicum of sense.

"_Wings stripped away, the end is nigh," _continued the prisoner, eyes falling on Neron.

"We have a question for you," Hangaku said, leaning her naginata on the near wall and pulling two pictures from inside her coat. Neron caught a glimpse of them and grimaced, but when Hangaku held up the first picture to the prisoner, he merely raised a brow.

"Do you recognize this man?"

The auburn-haired man rolled his eyes. "_Hero of the Dawn, Healer of Worlds_."

The princess nodded, and Neron looked at her questioningly. "That usually means yes," she explained.

He interjected, "but that doesn't tell us _who_ he is."

"_Hero of Worlds_," repeated the prisoner firmly, voice barely whisper and much more chilling than it had been before. Neron absently palmed the hilt of the sword at his hip.

"It's something to work with," Hangaku said agreeably and held up the second picture.

The prisoner got barely a glimpse of it, before he threw back his head and laughed loudly, shocking Neron and Hangaku both. To Neron, the laugh almost sounded pained and a smidge menacing.

"Who is he?" Hangaku asked, brows raised.

"_Wings of light and dark spread afar…my __**friend**_."

"This is useless," Neron growled, but admittedly had gotten chills when the prisoner had uttered the word "wings". He badly did not want Seth to be Sephiroth or the One-Winged Angel, if such a thing ever existed.

"Speak plainly," Hangaku snapped at the man.

"Dead," was the reply, short and bitter. "It matters not."

"This man walks the streets of my city merely days ago."

"The picture is old," said the prisoner, voice full of certainty, as if denying the very possibility.

"Tell me anyway."

"Let me go," he purred back.

"Leniencies can be given," she said, but nothing in her tone of voice indicated that her words were true.

The prisoner gave an irritated huff, and retorted: "You know your tales, I'm sure. It actually says his name on the bit of the poster that you've clipped this off of. Why do you need me to tell you again?"

"So he is Sephiroth, then, but _who _was Sephiroth? What is he capable of?"

"Is he the One-Winged Angel?" Neron added, ready for this strange conversation to be over.

The prisoner let a grin slowly overtake his features. "My, my, aren't you all _confident_. Poor little brats. Neither of you could go toe-to-toe with him in an arena."

"He is stronger than you?" Hangaku wanted to know.

The man's expression was bitter. "Perhaps."

"And the other one?" she held up the picture of Sky again.

"I don't know much about him."

"What do you know?"

Neron saw impatience pass over the prisoner's face. "I've already told you."

"Tell us his _name_."

Neron stepped back when he realized that the prisoner had the chains stretched to their limits, as they creaked in unison.

"It's nearly time for your tranq," Hangaku said with a small grin, reaching for her naginata nonetheless. Someone cleared his throat behind them. A scientist stood in the doorway with a loaded syringe.

"Oh joy," said the prisoner as the new man stepped forward and, without ceremony, plunged the needle into the captive's neck.

Hangaku sighed. "He'll be unconscious before long. Let's go."

Neron followed Hangaku back to the upper levels, but his mind never left the prisoner in his cell.

_There is no hate, only joy_

_For you are beloved by the Goddess_

_Hero of the Dawn, Healer of Worlds_

_Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul_

_Pride is lost._

_Wings stripped away, the end is nigh._

_[Loveless, Act II]_

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

There was a time long ago, when Cloud viewed Sephiroth as the man that he wanted to be. He was obsessed with the General even beyond the moment that he first began to understand that he could never be equal to the object of his dreams. Over the many long centuries, Cloud never developed relationships that ran deeper than the bare surface (at least, not on his part) because love had ripped him into pieces long ago, and there was scarcely anything left of his soul to give, but the re-arrival of Sephiroth had been the glue and tape that was slowly pulling him back together.

_My soul is patchwork. My soul is a broken vase that is slowly being glued back together. My soul is irrelevant because Rhea seems to be upset with me about something and I am actually a little bit afraid._

"I need to understand what's going on here," she explained to Cloud as they shared the couch. She was glaring as she spoke, and Cloud was slowly but surely withdrawing, until she held up a hand.

"Please? If your presence here is putting my child at risk, I have a right to know the truth."

Cloud had always been a sucker for the guilt card. He sighed.

"Okay, but let me get Seth? He's going to have to help me explain."

Rhea nodded. "He's in the shower. I'll be waiting." She crossed her arms.

Cloud darted down the hallway to the tiny bathroom and poked his head in the door. Sephiroth was completely hidden by the shower curtain, and Cloud had to speak up over the spray of hot water.

"Seph, Rhea wants an explanation."

"I've tried," Sephiroth called back. "She didn't believe me."

"I know, but we can show her the truth."

Sephiroth's head appeared from behind the curtain, and Cloud's mind wandered into dangerous territory at the sight of that drenched face staring back at him.

"I know a way," he explained, mouth dry, "but I need you."

"Ten minutes."

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Sephiroth stood in the living room next to Cloud. The ex-General was in a pair of loose sweats with a towel wrapped around his head. He was shirtless and looking a bit irritated, but Cloud's teeth weren't on edge for that reason. The blonde just really wasn't used to seeing the other man act so blatantly _domestic_. Apparently, there was still a part of Cloud that viewed Sephiroth as the unreachable, invincible, perfect warrior. And that feeling was hard to smother out.

"Okay, Cloud…what's the plan?" Sephiroth asked, frowning at Rhea's skeptical expression.

"Right," Cloud said quickly. "Your wing. Show her that."

"_Pardon_?" Rhea piped in.

"Oh," Sephiroth gasped. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Cloud smirked.

"You're kidding!" Rhea said loudly. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, boys!"

Without fanfare, Sephiroth unleashed his single, black wing. It appeared in a flash, black feathers gleaming over his right shoulder. It was all a disaster, however, for the first order of business for Sephiroth's great and mighty feathered appendage was to promptly knock over a lamp. Cloud put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. Rhea didn't even take the time to gape. She rushed across the room to rescue her lamp, placed it safely out of Sephiroth's wingspan, and then turned on them both. In a screechy, panicked, angry tone, she demanded: "Put that thing away! _You're getting feathers everywhere!"_

Sephiroth meekly withdrew his wing, wincing as it slid completely back into place, and the skin on his back healed instantly. Cloud stepped behind him when the scent of blood met his nostrils and asked worriedly, "Does it hurt to do that? There's blood all over your back."

Sephiroth shrugged. "It's not that bad."

"You're going to need another shower," Cloud pointed out.

The taller man slumped a little.

They both turned their eyes back to Rhea, who looked a little shell-shocked.

"Shower, Seth…_Seph_? It's Sephiroth, isn't it?" she shuddered.

"Go," Cloud said, gently shoving Sephiroth back down the hall. "I'll talk to her."

And so he did.

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Genesis Rhapsodos was having a rough couple of decades. Upon emerging from a long slumber in the Niju Mountains twenty years ago, he was drugged and dragged into the hands of a man named Reginald, who was in the center of a hostile takeover of a powerful city called Perna. After the takeover, Genesis was slapped into the palace dungeons and there he had remained, visited only by the scientists who drugged him to keep him from escaping, and Reginald himself, on occasion. In more recent years, the Emperor's prodigal daughter had taken a shine to him.

Hangaku was like a slap in the face. She was a female version of General Sephiroth if there ever was one. Genesis had entertained the idea that the man had actually been reborn into the girl for the first few months after meeting her, but had shaken that off as a few more years passed, and she revealed herself to be perhaps even more solitary and secretive than his old friend had ever been.

When she had shown him the pictures of none other than Cloud Strife and Sephiroth, Genesis had actually pitied her. _She may be a prodigy, but she's no match for either of them._

He knew it would probably be more accurate to remember Sephiroth as an enemy, but for some reason he was having difficulty with the concept.

Although Genesis was left wondering if Cloud and Sephiroth had really teamed up, the world outside did not sound like it was falling apart, and surely if those two idiots fought each other, the world would tremble as it had so long ago. Like Genesis, Cloud and Sephiroth were forces to be reckoned with, and of course, a small part of Genesis was a tiny bit excited. Sephiroth was alive and kicking, which meant that perhaps the world would stop being so boring. However, Cloud would undoubtedly be a wild card in the grand scheme of things. The blonde always was.

Regardless, escape was imminent, and Genesis couldn't wait to slaughter the fool who'd dare keep him prisoner for two decades.

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

As Hangaku descended the halls to the prison cells, nervous anxiety swelled in her gut. For reasons unknown, perhaps even to herself, she hadn't brought the naginata that day. She found 231's cell and slid inside, eying the chained up man with worry.

"Hangaku," he said, smirking. "Back so soon? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

It took her a moment to answer. "I'm worried about my father."

"You should be," he said sharply, eyes narrowing. "He has quite a few powerful enemies, as leaders often do."

"That's not what I meant," she retorted. "He's used the enhancement formula on himself and on many of our men."

"I see," said the prisoner. "You worried that it might not work correctly?"

"What are the side effects?"

The man laughed. "It depends on so many different factors. I have no idea how the new formula was concocted, so how am I to know?"

"You know why. We used your cells to make it."

"Along with some seedy documents that you pulled from Ancient Midgar, you mean? Yes, that was a risky move. They only got it right the once, you know."

Hangaku paled. "Once?"

"On the documents you found, whose name was on them? Hojo, Gast, or Hollander?"

"Crescent."

The prisoner's expression went a little sour. "Wild card again," he whispered. "Interesting."

"What do you mean?"

"Lucrecia Crescent was Sephiroth's biological mother."

Hangaku was frozen, her eyes wide. "Lu…Lucrecia?"

The prisoner frowned. "Does that name mean something to you, Princess?"

"It has to be a coincidence," she muttered.

"_What?_"

Her dark blue eyes met the prisoner's paler ones. "Though she was not well known, my mother's name was Lucrecia."

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

"So it's Reginald, Hangaku, Bartholomew, and Neron," Sephiroth counted. "They royal line - the ones we have be rid of."

"Hangaku is nineteen," Rhea stated, picking at her dinner with a fork. "I've seen her in Narga before. She was rather withdrawn but not hostile or cruel."

"A General at nineteen. A prodigy," Cloud shared a look with Sephiroth, who shrugged.

"She's an obstacle," he pointed out. "You were quite young when you faced me, and your friends were even younger."

Cloud winced as some of his darker memories surfaced: Aerith speared by Masamune, people burning in the aftermath of Meteorfall, the fire at Nibelheim, people being slaughtered by the monsters summoned by the remnants.

"She's not enhanced," he argued. "She's barely an adult."

"If Jenova was still around, we wouldn't even be talking about this. The royal family would already be rust on our blades and you know it."

"I'd forgotten how merciless you can be," Cloud muttered, looking sad.

Sephiroth glared. "I was a young General as well. I wish I'd been killed before I was exposed to Jenova or even to Wutai. I decimated their army, Cloud, and I had no regrets."

"She's not like that."

"You don't even know her. Stop projecting."

"Shut up!" Rhea snarled, silently pleased that Jera wasn't present to hear the argument. "I understand that you have both been through a lot, but I won't listen to you argue about this. It's like you can't be bothered to consider an alternative that doesn't end in murder. Have you considered _talking _to the royal family? Explain the dangers of what they're doing. They might listen."

"They've posted wanted posters throughout every city and town in the country. We're fugitives, Rhea. They don't want to listen to what we have to say."

She rolled her eyes. "Fools! Are you or are you not legends? Do you think they could hold you, even if they did capture you?"

Cloud and Sephiroth exchanged glances.

"Maybe," Sephiroth admitted.

"Not if we have materia," Cloud decided, "but that's at the off-chance that they'd let us keep our weapons if we went to talk to them. They could just as easily use them against us."

"They'd die trying. It takes months of training to use even the most basic of materia. Any one of them would die just trying to tap into a weak Summon materia."

Cloud nodded in agreement.

"There's another thing," Rhea interjected. "They've been releasing information about the newly enhanced soldiers." She held up a newspaper that had been sitting next to her on the table and read: "_In creating the enhancement serum, the DNA of an ancient test subject was used, along with documents that archeologists discovered in the Midgar Ruins, which were recently mysteriously destroyed."_

"Ancient test subject?" Sephiroth said sharply, sharing a look with Cloud. "Like Jenova?"

"What else was in the old Shinra building?"

"In Hojo's labs? Who knows," Sephiroth growled.

"It doesn't say that the subject came from Shinra," Rhea pointed out.

Cloud stiffened. "Vincent…?"

"I doubt it. He was Chaos, right? The new soldier's eyes glow more like mako. Weren't his red?"

"They are," Cloud stated, carefully avoiding the issue of Vincent Valentine's continued existence. "But who else could they possibly have found? Another SOLDIER?"

They both considered the possibilities in silence, before Cloud finally gasped in realization.

"Genesis," he breathed.

Sephiroth frowned as an old anixous feeling assailed him. "But he was degrading. He didn't die?"

"He was cured," Cloud remembered, "though I don't know how, and I haven't seen him in centuries. It _could_ be him."

"They never could have captured him," Sephiroth retorted. "Genesis was an exemplary SOLDIER."

"Hojo managed to get me and Zack back then. It was also well-known that he had a knack for handling you. If Genesis was tired or something, all it would take is a really strong sedative."

Sephiroth swore under his breath. "It means that, if it is indeed him, that they're keeping him prisoner."

"It's possible."

Sephiroth sighed. "He won't be happy to see me."

"Sephiroth, I think we need to go talk to this Emperor. Rhea's right. There's no need to end this in bloodshed. It also puts Genesis at risk, if he really is there."

"Bartholomew is Mayor here," Rhea reminded gently. "You may want to go speak to him first."

"We won't put you at risk," Sephiroth said quickly. "We need to leave from here immediately without drawing attention to ourselves."

Cloud took a deep breath, and watched Sephiroth worriedly as he said, "We should go talk to Neron."

The silver-haired man stiffened, but nodded. "I agree."

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Neron was home early one evening, though the sun was already setting in the distant sky. He walked into his mansion and pulled off his coat in a practice gesture. He went straight to shower, then put on some more comfortable clothes, and even grabbed a snack from the kitchen before finally entering the living room to relax.

He took one step into the large room and froze. Sky (Cloud) and Seth (Sephiroth) sat side-by-side on his overlarge sofa. One eyed him with disappointment, the other with disgust.

"Half an hour," Seth hissed. "Pitiful."

"Not helping, Seph," Cloud growled and stood up.

Neron actually took a step back. Seeing a picture was one thing, but seeing Sky dressed in not only black, but in what was clearly _combat gear_, was utterly shell shocking. The blonde's eyes glowed brightly, not the dark blue that Neron was familiar with, but an overwhelming neon lapis lazuli. There was a collection of belts wrapped around his torso, and Neron somewhat fearfully recognized them for what they were: a very complex sword harness. Sky definitely had _not _been wearing that in the old photo. Fortunately, the blonde's sword was absent. Neron wondered vaguely what it looked like.

What made the situation even more disconcerting was Sky's very demeanor. The man carried himself completely differently now. He took two steps closer to Neron and the Lieutenant backed nearly out of the room in fright. Sky did not walk, he _prowled_. Every shift of his form and sway of his hands, and even the sweep of his eyes was predatory.

Seth stood up impatiently behind Sky, and Neron discovered a new level of fear as the silver-haired man swayed neatly forward to stand beside Sky and glowered for all he was worth. There was a static-y quality to the air that Neron had never before experienced in the man's presence, and he had to wonder faintly whether or not this was how it felt to be around the mysterious Seth when he was not acting or hiding the truth.

"We want to talk," Sky said pleadingly, his voice toned at a lower, more confident pitch than the one Neron was used to.

"This will be your only opportunity to convince Cloud that I shouldn't kill you," Seth said threateningly. "Make it count."

Neron drew in a deep breath, stood as straight as he could manage and walked past them to his favorite chair. He turned and sat in it with as much dignity as he could muster, but he was trembling. Sky and Seth moved back over to the couch, where they sat practically in unison and leveled their glowing gazes in Neron's direction.

_Uncle Reginald, I haven't seen either of them fight seriously, but I can honestly say this now: something tells me that we have utterly underestimated these two._

"What?" Neron said seethingly.

"The formula that your scientists are giving Reginald's soldiers…it's dangerous."

Neron rolled his eyes. "I've been given the formula."

"Clearly," Seth growled. "The glowing eyes are a dead giveaway."

"A long time ago, we called it mako," Sky interjected, shooting Setha warning look. "Mako is the main ingredient, combined with the cells of…"

"A monster," Seth hissed. "A creature not from this world."

"So?" Neron snapped.

"Back then, the SOLDIERs enhanced with mako either mutated or degraded or just plain went insane. The doses had to be concentrated to regulate that sort of thing, but even then, there were problems." Sky relaxed into the couch, leaning noticeably closer to Seth. "The company that created the SOLDIERs tried keeping that under wraps, until it became impossible."

"But there were successes, _clearly_, or neither of you would be here," Neron pointed out.

"I told you," Seth said to Sky. "He knows too much already, and he's just like them."

"Even Rufus started to sense in the end, Seph," Sky muttered pointedly, making Neron frown. It sounded like an old argument between them.

Seth met Neron's eyes. "If you dare call either of us a success, knowing who we are, then you are an idiot."

"And just who are you then?" Neron chided.

"Don't pretend that you don't know," Sky said angrily. "Your people have been poking around in Midgar, which was an entirely stupid thing to do. I'm sure you know _something_ by now."

"What we know, we are having a hard time believing," Neron said sharply. "That both of you were alive over a thousand years ago is hard to believe."

"What did you find?" Seth asked, genuinely curious.

"_Pictures_," Neron spat, "of Sky and of you, _General Sephiroth_."

"So you do know," Sky uttered, crossing his arms. "I'm surprised you're not freaking out more."

"Freaking out?! You expect me to believe that this man is the legendary One-Winged Angel?" Neron practically shrieked, gesitculating wildly.

"We don't _care _what you decide to believe," Seth growled. "All we care about is that you cease using the formula."

"Well, even if I gave a shit, there's nothing I can do about that. It's not my call," Neron grumbled. "And you're also both wanted men. Do you honestly think I'm not going to report this?"

Seth stood slowly from his seat. "I think now is ideal, Cloud."

"Sky, what is he talking about?" Neron snarled, shooting to his feet.

"His name is _Cloud_," Seth snapped. "He's not your fucking _submissive _anymore."

Sky shot up to his feet, standing between them. "Sephiroth, you promised…not today," he reminded, but he was facing Neron, muscles tense.

After a long pause, Seth seemed to relax a litte. "Fine," he said, giving in. Sky nodded and started to turn away, but Neron couldn't help but have the last word:

"You should have let him attack me, Sky. I'd very much like to beat the hell out of that _monster_."

To Neron's shock, it wasn't Seth, but _Sky _who reacted to the insult. The blonde was across the room in an instant, slamming Neron up against a wall with one hand around his throat.

"You ignorant bastard," Sky growled.

"S-Sky!" Neron gasped, struggling to breath.

"_My name is Cloud!_" Cloud snarled. "You and your idiotic fucking family needs to stop assuming that they know _anything_ about what they're getting into. If something doesn't change soon, then the planet itself will rip this city the fuck _apart_, and Gaia help me, I swear to you that I'll just sit back and _watch_!"

A gloved hand appeared on Cloud's shoulder and Neron found himself looking desperately into the eyes of Sephiroth.

"If you kill him, you'll forever regret it, Cloud."

Cloud didn't seem to hear him. In fact, the blonde's grip around Neron's throat actually seemed to grow tighter.

Sephiroth actually sighed, before shifting his voice an octave lower, and snapping out crisply: "_Strife, _let him go."

Cloud stiffened, and something altogether foreign flashed across his face, before he dropped Neron to the floor, taking a step back.

Sephiroth heedlessly put an arm around Cloud's shoulders, but his eyes never left Neron, who was coughing and gasping desperately for breath.

"This was your warning. Share it with your betters, and hope to the Goddess that they listen. If not, we're coming for all of you."

Neron heard the sound of retreating boots, and it was even longer after they had vanished that he caught his breath again. He sought out his cell phone and stared morosely at the screen for nearly ten minutes, before putting it down again. He couldn't even report them to Reginald; he was too terrified. And something was niggling at his brain, something that sort of wondered if Cloud and Sephiroth had had a point.

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Cloud and Sephiroth couldn't stay in the city, so they had rented out a small hotel room in a small town to the south. They were stuck sharing a room with single bed, because Cloud couldn't risk accessing his bank account, and Sephiroth hadn't had much money to begin with. There twin bikes were sitting in the darkest corner of the parking lot, clearly visible from the single window in the hotel room.

"You call your bike Fenrir," Seth was saying, checking on the bikes for the tenth time that evening. He was watching the bikes from the window, dressed in a huge baggy t-shirt and some old gray sweats. "What's the other one called?"

"I haven't named it," Cloud admitted, joining Sephiroth next to the window. "You can, if you want. It's yours now."

Sephiroth was surprised at how easily Cloud passed on ownership, but he didn't show it. "Fenrir is a wolf, right?"

"Son of Loki, killer of Odin," Cloud recited. "My mother told me the tales as a child. She called them our Ancestors, even though no one else in Nibelheim believed in them. Fenrir was always my favorite."

"Kali," Sephiroth decided then.

"For the Goddess of Change and Time," Cloud declared, approval in his voice. "Aren't you tired?"

"And still annoyed," Sephiroth said quietly. "I half regret not letting you finish Neron."

"I'm glad you stopped me."

"I feel as if we may regret that move in the future."

Cloud stared at Fenrir and Kali across the parking lot. "He's not horrible. He may just come to his senses. But enough of that," he grabbed Sephiroth's hand and tugged him over to the bed. "We both need sleep."

Sephiroth looked doubtfully at the tiny bed. "I doubt we'll sleep comfortably on that rock, if at all."

Cloud snorted. "We've both had worse."

"I slept on the ground in Wutai," Sephiroth muttered, "but somehow, I still think this bed is worse."

"If you don't want to sleep with me, just say so," Cloud teased, though the tone of his voice left plenty of room for doubt.

Sephiroth frowned. "I did _not _say that."

He moved to join Cloud on the bed, spooning the blonde from behind and burying his face in the slighter man's wild hair. After a few moments of comfortable silence, Cloud finally admitted: "I think my side is going numb. It really is a rock."

Sephiroth snickered against the back of Cloud's neck, and rolled onto his back, pulling Cloud with him.

"Ugh," Cloud grunted, adjusting himself to lie face-first against Sephiroth's chest. "Much better," he exclaimed finally.

"Well, don't get too comfortable. I expect you to do the same for me in a few hours."

Cloud laughed. "Um, you'll probably smother me in your sleep."

"It's the hair," Sephiroth defended, "both a blessing and a curse."

"It's not just the hair. You're like seven feet tall."

"Am not," Sephiroth argued childishly.

"And Masamune is at least ten feet long," Cloud teased. "I still haven't figured out how you use that thing."

"You're one to talk," Sephiroth retorted. "First Tsurugi has like 37 parts. It's ridiculous."

"I like a bit of variety."

"I like _you_," Sephiroth pointed out, wrapping his arms around Cloud's waist.

"Cheesy," the blonde accused, but lifted his own arms so he could play with Sephiroth's hair.

"Who's being cheesy?" Sephiroth whispered, closing his eyes. "I can't wait for all of those imbeciles to see what they've really been missing. You're going to _terrify _them."

"Should we put on a show? Downtown Perna. You can wear your wing."

"Mmmm," Sephiroth purred sleepily. "I just want to kiss you in front of everyone."

"Can't imagine what would have happened if we would have done that back then."

Sephiroth's eyes opened to slits. "I came really close on that rooftop. There was a not-so-subtle part of my batshit insanity that was screaming for me to do it."

"I would have let you," Cloud whispered. "That scares me, actually."

"Me, too."

Cloud pulled his body forward, letting it slide over Sephiroth's, and pushed their mouths together. He felt the other man's tongue meet his own and they spent a great deal of time battling for dominance, as they did in all things. Eventually, the need for air forced them to break apart. After a while, they both had calmed down, and Cloud fell asleep listening to Sephiroth's gentle snoring.

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

The palace court yard was lined with soldiers, and on the great stone steps leading to the entrance stood the Emperor himself, flocked by two Generals and a few other select high ranking officers. Below them, standing alone, was General Hangaku, the first heir to Reginald's throne. She had a gun strapped to one hip, but her naginata gleamed proudly in her grip, its curved, golden blade shining brilliantly in the sunlight.

Today her hair was twisted into a long, tight braid that fell down her narrow back and swayed gently in the passing breeze. She wore thin, black armor and a tight dark gray suit. Fitting most of all, however, was the silver crown gleaming across her brow.

"I call to order, on this day of the High Year, Princess Hangaku of Perna, Third General of the Fighting Forces, woman unto her own," said First General Hawking. "The Princess is now twenty-years-old, and of her Great Father and Emperor, she may make one request alone. Shall it be plausible, the request shall be granted. Shall it not, she shall be granted a different request."

"Hangaku," Emperor Reginald said loudly, "what do you ask of me this High Year?"

Hangaku had thought long and hard of what her request would be. "Father, Emperor, I ask only one thing of thee. Complete responsibility of Prisoner 231."

A surprised muttering arose from the soldiers and the Emperor's crowd. Reginald himself seemed perplexed by her request.

"Why?"

"I need him to capture the fugitives. You know of whom I speak."

Reginald frowned. "The request is not meant for work, dear Hangaku."

"It is meant to please me," she reminded. "And this will."

"He is dangerous," Reginald warned.

"I know, father."

The Emperor stood tall, decision made.

"To my daughter, Princess Hangaku, I grant this one request. Happy Birthday, my heir."

She bowed.

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Hangaku faced the prisoner in 231. A small group of soldiers also filed into the space of the cell.

"_Infinite in mystery is the Gift of the Goddess,_" the prisoner stated, glancing around curiously.

"I have been given full responsibility of you, 231," Hangaku declared.

"_I offer thee this silent sacrifice_."

"Release him," Hangaku ordered, and the soldiers began unwrapping the chains from the prisoner.

"You were drugged very recently," Hangaku said sharply. "I expect you to do as I say, prisoner."

"I'm listening," the prisoner finally replied.

"You will follow me in every measure."

"As you say," he chided, just as they finished unwinding the final chain. Beneath the metal, the man's clothes were in rags, the imprint of the chains covered his arms and legs, and a bad smell wafted from his thin form. The soldier's unlocked the shackles from around his ankles and wrists, and the man very nearly fell over, before one of Hangaku's men was able to catch him, though the soldier looked positively repulsed.

"Help him to my chambers. One of you fetch him some fresh clothes and boots. Have a maid draw a bath for him in my own suite."

The soldiers rushed to follow her commands, as she turned her back on them. Hangaku's men took the prisoner and followed her up to her rooms, where she ordered them to drop the man on an empty sofa and take their leave. They protested, of course, but the princess would hear none of it. The men took their leave after that.

Hangaku's maid then informed her that a bath had been drawn. She recruited the maid to help her take the prisoner to the bathroom.

"You will bathe," Hangaku told him as they deposited him on the toilet next to the tub. "Leave the old clothes on the floor. Towels are under the sink. Can you manage on your own? I expect you won't try to escape?"

"Of course not," the man said, "I'm in no condition to do so just yet."

"Just get cleaned up," she hissed, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

Genesis stripped down to his bare skin and climbed in the lukewarm bath. He groaned as the water stung his sensitive skin, but grew more and more comfortable as his enhancements finally kicked in again and his body started to rapidly heal. He wasn't kidding about not being able to attempt escape. He had lost nearly all of his muscle tone over the past two decades. Fortunately, if he ate right and got a bit of exercise over the next few weeks, it would return quickly. He was rather miffed as to why the princess was allowing him such freedom, however.

_Either she's a fool or she wants something that she thinks I can give her. The woman has no idea what she's unleashed._

Nearly half an hour passed while he lingered in the bath, until finally Hangaku knocked loudly on the door.

"Did you drown?" she asked.

"You wish," he said cheerfully back. "Give me just a few more minutes. I'm quite enjoying this."

"You're not meant to be enjoying it," she said hotly.

"Well, no one told me that."

"You're a _prisoner_, idiot. No one should have to."

He sighed. "Ten minutes, dear Hangaku."

He washed up and drained the tub, found a towel and dried off, then found a pile of clean clothes near the sink that he guessed he was expected to wear. They were extremely loose, but at least they fit. Before heading out, he snagged an extra toothbrush and set about brushing his teeth until his gums bled. It had been far too long.

Genesis eventually emerged from the bath, stretching and grinning.

Hangaku gave him a wide-eyed look, eyes sweeping over his bare arms and neck. "You've healed already?"

He shrugged and fell gracefully onto an empty chair. "_Wings of light and dark spread afar, she guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting."_

"What is that nonsense constantly spewing forth from your mouth?" Hangaku finally, _finally_ asked. Genesis had waited _years_ for her to ask that question.

"_Loveless_," he explained, meeting her eyes. "An epic poem long lost to time and a personal favorite of mine."

"Interesting," she admitted, crossing her arms. "Now I think it would be pertinent for me to explain your position."

"Explain away."

"You are still a prisoner of this house, but you will serve your sentence as my personal servant, so long as you are willing to answer some of my questions about Cloud and Sephiroth and the soldier enhancements."

"You say that now," Genesis warned, "but at full strength, I might not be so willing to stay."

"I am aware. I don't intend to keep you prisoner forever anyway. Your purpose here is spent. We have the enhancement formula. My father doesn't need you anymore. That is why it was so simple to get him to give you to me."

"I think-" Genesis was mid-sentence when someone stormed into Hangaku's rooms unannounced.

Hangaku leapt to her feet in anger, but most of her anger diminished when she identified the rude man who had just stormed into her room.

The intruder was General Hawking.

"What is the meaning of this, Hangaku?" he roared. The man was large and very strongly built, and his voice carried. There was also a diagonal scar that marred what was once his handsome face. The Princess had no idea where he'd gotten it.

"Keep it down," Hangaku pleaded.

Hawking pointed an accusing finger at the prisoner. "This man is _extremely dangerous, _girl! I know you weren't there when we found him, but I was. He _cannot _be allowed to wander about. He's a monster!"

Genesis laughed lightly and rose from his seat. "Ah, yes, I remember. I tossed you around those caves like a rag doll, didn't I? I gave you that pretty scar. I wonder…whatever did you morons do with my rapier?"

"Sit down!" Hangaku screamed at him.

Genesis ignored her and stepped closer and closer to the angry General. "Imagine if you fools hadn't caught me half out of my sleep and hit me with that tranquilizer, the kind of damage I could have done. You'd all be dead now, even your precious Emperor."

Hangaku had to hold Hawking back, before the man could rush at Genesis.

"Stop it, Hawking! I need him to capture those two fugitives."

She roughly threw the man across the room. "Get out! _Now!"_

"_Your father will hear about this!" _the other General growled.

"As he will hear about you barging into my rooms unannounced. I _will not tell you again, Hawking!"_

He left, slamming the door behind him, and Genesis laughed. Hangaku turned on him.

"Sit down, idiot!"

He ignored her again. Wiping a tear from his eye, he offered: "I once thought of you like a young, female Sephiroth, but I was completely wrong. You're far more like me."

She sat down again, and covered her face with her hands and groaned. "I didn't think you'd be so annoying."

He smirked. "Oh, you have _no idea_."

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Cloud and Sephiroth rode Fenrir and Kali back into the city. The roar of the cycles drowned out the sounds of passing traffic, but they also caught a lot of attention. They just didn't make bikes like these any more. After all, these monsters were suited for combat and complex maneuvering, which Sephiroth was apparently enjoying. He weaved in and out of traffic, practically drove circles around Cloud when space allowed (and sometimes even when it didn't, which never failed to put Cloud's teeth on edge). When traffic got truly ridiculous, they could often be found idling next to each other, keeping their eyes on the pedestrians, and having vague conversations about the weather.

It had been nearly a month since their meeting with Neron, and to their surprise, the man actually managed to contact them at the hotel they had been hiding in, expressing the desire for another get-together. Though Sephiroth and Cloud had realized that it was probably a trap, they went along with it anyway, both bored and not overly worried about the potential ambush they might be walking into.

When finally they arrived at the stadium where Neron had asked them to show, it was already teeming with spectators. They parked the bikes a few blocks away, bought their tickets, and headed into the seating area. Neron had claimed that he would be able to find them, so they took their seats and watched as the tournament began. Cloud and Sephiroth were both equally thrilled to have someone to whine to about the frankly terrible swordsmen in the melee.

"That man is far too stiff with a katana."

"What kind of footwork is that?"

"Is he trying to get stabbed?"

"She's not bad, but she'd be far more consistent with a longer weapon."

"That man shouldn't be allowed anywhere _near_ a sword."

Cloud and Sephiroth ended up laughing at the ridiculousness of some of the fighters, their shoulders pressed together, and their eyes gleaming. It wasn't until someone sitting behind them thought to question their attitudes that they toned it down.

"Some of us are actually trying to enjoy the show here," snapped a familiar, female voice. Cloud jerked around in his seat.

"Elda?"

"_Sky?!" _the White gasped. "Since when are you a Black?"

"Long story," Cloud said, as Sephiroth turned slightly in his seat.

"Hello, again," Elda greeted cheerfully.

"I remember you," Sephiroth said, ducking his head in acknowledgement.

"And you're the one who stole little Sky away," she cooed. "And converted him?"

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. "Please don't remind me. I still have issues recalling him as a White." The man shuddered and Cloud nudged him in the side.

"Forgive me for this, but aren't you wanted men?" Elda's Black asked. Cloud knew the man fairly well. He wasn't one of Neron's closest friends, nor was the man in the military, but he still might be a threat to them.

"Yes," Cloud said sharply, meeting the man's eyes, just as Elda turned on him. "Problem, dear?"

He glanced over them thoughtfully and shrugged. "Nope."

"Good," Sephiroth said flatly. "Now, Elda, was it? How the hell did Cloud ever manage as a White?"

She giggled. "Quite well actually, though I did sometimes think he was a little too snarky to be one of us."

"You're snarky," Cloud protested weakly.

"He did look pretty hot in those white little numbers though," she told Sephiroth. "You should have seen the things he used to wear back when he first got with Neron."

"_Elda!_" Cloud said, turning red.

Sephiroth gave the woman a conspiratory look. "Do tell."

"I _hope _I'm not interrupting anything," said a new voice from the stairs that ran up between the seats.

"Oh, it's you," Sephiroth growled, meeting the newcomer's eyes. "Neron-moron."

"I believe you two are waiting for me, though I'd be more than happy to leave you behind with Elda, _Seth."_

Sephiroth smiled sweetly. "Oh, I doubt that. If I leave him alone with you, who's to stop him from ripping your throat out, hm?"

Cloud turned back to Elda. "Neanderthals."

She outright laughed, as Cloud rose to follow Neron from their seats. Sephiroth followed them, leaving Elda and her Black with a friendly farewell. Neron led them to a VIP lounge on one of the upper levels. It was empty, of course.

They took their seats around a table, and Neron cut right to the chase.

"I want to help you. You said the formula's not safe. You said that it could cause bigger problems. I want to know what. I don't want that to happen."

"_Damn_," Sephiroth cursed.

"I told you," Cloud said smugly. "Alright, Neron. You'll have to answer all of our questions."

"Fine."

Cloud nodded. "Who is the test subject that they're using to make the formula?"

Neron frowned. "I don't understand. What subject? Are you talking about a person?"

"The papers suggested as much."

Neron sighed and crossed his arms. "It must have been him, then. There's a prisoner in the palace dungeons. They don't know his name or anything, but he was captured during Uncle Reginald's takeover. The guy is nuts though."

"You've seen him?" Sephiroth asked.

"Yes, though he was covered in chains, and they have to keep him sedated most of the time."

"Describe him."

"Auburn hair, glowing blue eyes, likes to spout off poetry at random intervals."

Sephiroth groaned, but Cloud actually chuckled.

"I can't believe he's still quoting that awful play."

"How many soldiers have been enhanced?" Cloud wondered.

"Several hundred."

"No side effects?"

"I don't know."

"Neron, you've been enhanced. Any issues?"

He sighed. "I'm tired and far more irritable than I used to be, but that might be because my fucking White left me, converted, and started dating a legendary pariah."

"All things considered, I'm sorry," Cloud said tiredly. "I didn't expect him to come back. Last time I saw this guy, we weren't on friendly terms. And well, he died." The blonde shrugged, as if that were no big deal.

"I'm sorry," Neron said seriously, "he _died_? Then how is he here?"

"This is my fourth time coming back to life. It's not really that impressive anymore, and Cloud…you've died at least once, right?" Sephiroth gave Cloud a questioning look.

"Yeah, killed by the remnants, but…how did you know?"

"The lifestream. They were _my _remnants, you know. Their memories counted as mine, whether I wanted them or not."

"I am so utterly confused right now," Neron admitted. "Cloud, who _are _you?"

"I'm surprised no one has guessed yet, to be honest. How is it that everyone remembers Sephiroth's name, but not mine? Not that I care, but _really_? _Why_?"

Cloud shot Sephiroth an accusing glare.

"I can't help that I was practically worshipped as a General. Blame Shinra's advertising head."

Cloud snorted. "Yeah, right." His attention jumped back to Neron. "You know the stories. The Warrior of Light kills the One-Winged Angel?"

Neron nodded, but obviously wasn't cluing in. Sephiroth took pity on him.

"Neron, Warrior of Light. Warrior of Light, Neron."

Needless to say, Neron's jaw dropped. He made a wheezing sound.

"Yeah, yeah. It's no big deal."

"Bullshit," Sephiroth interjected. "The world would be dust by now, if you hadn't stopped me. '_I will sail the Cosmos with this Planet as my vessel.' _I probably would have taken out the whole universe."

"I doubt you could have moved the Planet," Cloud said lightly.

"The skies went dark. Meteor _fell_. I had Jenova. I could have managed it."

Neron had collected his jaw, but his eyes were still bulging as Cloud and Sephiroth casually debated whether or not the silver-haired man was capable of using the Planet as transport.

_What have I gotten myself into with these two? _Neron wondered, then was saddened. _Sky was never really mine, was he? Deep down, he was always this…always Cloud. Always Sephiroth's._

"How do you go from ultimate enemies to…whatever you are now?" Neron asked, interrupting their conversation, and trying not to sound too obviously jealous.

Cloud grimaced. "It's too complicated."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"We have two options," Sephiroth explained. "Talk the Emperor into stopping the enhancements and destroying every bit of information that might compromise the Planet…or kill everyone who dares oppose that idea."

Neron gulped. "But…why is it so dangerous?"

"The enhancements are basically why Meterofall happened. Someone went batshit because an alien claiming to be his mother told him to go crazy, and that someone summoned the thing, hoping to permanently damage the Planet, so it could no longer heal, which would inevitably lead to the death of all life."

Sephiroth was looking rather put out by this explanation.

Neron threw him a line. "You were the 'someone'?"

"I spent my entire life as a science experiment. My biological mother married a crazy scientist and never told my biological father that I was his. I grew up believing that the scientist was my father. My real mother started having prophetic dreams of what I would become, so she fled and hid herself away from the world. So when the time came, the scientist told me that my mother was Jenova, the alien thing. I was a carrier of her DNA from the womb. Later in life, I actually came across Jenova. Her presence is…extremely influential. I was so angry about _everything _that I didn't stop to think. I began to destroy anything that got in my way. Cloud stopped me…once or twice."

"Three times."

"I still don't know how you managed it the first time."

"Luck," Cloud admitted. "And you were distracted."

"By _Mother_," Sephiroth hissed and visibly shuddered.

"Stop it," Neron hissed, and both Cloud and Sephiroth regarded him questioningly.

"What?" Cloud voiced.

"You're both so...in cahoots. Why did you even bother with me, Cloud?" Neron asked, very obviously hurt.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, but Cloud answered sincerely: "I liked you...and I still do, but you must understand how long I've been around. I don't get attached to people anymore - not deeply enough to scar, if you know what I mean. But Sephiroth was unavoidable. I've been obsessed with him since I was a child."

"You used me," Neron accused.

Sephiroth could practically see the weight of guilt settling on Cloud's shoulders, and he absolutely _would not _stand for it. He stepped forward and in front of Cloud, who protested weakly.

Sephiroth met Neron's eyes evenly.

"Let's get something straight," he said, all ice. "This man grew up in a world that was being ripped out from under his very feet as he walked it. He was tortured, torn, and broken. His memories were tampered with. He has been used and abused, watched his loved ones die all around him. He has seen horrors that you cannot possibly imagine and somehow managed to rise above them. He has suffered the passing of one thousand years and maintained a healthy level of sanity. He saved the world when the very idea of you wasn't even a possibility."

"Without Cloud Strife, you would not exist. This city would not exist. This _world _would very likely not exist. So don't you _dare _blame him for anything..._ever_. He knew that his choice to be with you would bring you happiness, a happiness that would have lasted had it not been for my very unlikely, very unexpected appearance. By the Goddess, Neron, if you so much as give this man a passing glance of contempt, I will grip your heart as it beats within your chest with my bare hand and squeeze it until it stops."

"_Sephiroth_," Cloud whispered from behind him, sounding as lost and broken as an abandoned child.

"If there is anyone to blame, I am," Sephiroth finally continued. "I nearly broke this world, broke _him_, and I enjoyed doing so. Now it pains me to say that I ever did such things, but know this, given the opportunity, I would gladly kill you. Cloud is the entire reason that I am here. Without him, I would not hesitate to burn the world again. I don't need Jenova to guide me. I am quite capable on my own. In short, I am the monster. Cloud is the angel. Do not confuse the two, and never endeavor to break him, for I will have your head on a pike and wield it as I destroy everything that has ever mattered to you."

Neron took a few steps back, frightened by the intensity of Sephiroth's eyes, and even more horrified by the pupils which had narrowed to slits as the man made his speech.

Reassured that Neron knew his place, Sephiroth turned around to face Cloud, who looked far paler than usual.

"It's not your fault," the ex-General said firmly.

"It's not...my fault," Cloud repeated quietly.

"Never yours," Sephiroth affirmed. "Now that that's settled, can we continue?"

Cloud nodded and spoke up to Neron, hoping to drive teh conversation into safer territory. "Will you help us?"

"I've already agreed to at this point," Neron said with a barely noticeable shrug. "But how?"

"I hear the princess has the Emperor's ear."

"Total Daddy's girl," Neron agreed, eyes locked worryingly onto Sephiroth.

"I want to meet her."

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Emperor Reginald stared at a smirking Genesis across the dining table. Hangaku was at his side, eating peacefully. Hangaku had already spoken to her father about General Hawking's intrustion and Genesis release into her constant custody. He approved of neither, but as usual, he was hard-pressed to deny Hangaku much of anything. Still, the presence of Genesis was unnerving, especially since his daughter seemed to be so at ease in his company.

"231, eat your food," she muttered.

He went back to eating his dinner obediantly, though his gaze occasionally swept over the Emperor.

"You don't look well," Reginald said flatly to the prisoner.

"Gee, I wonder why," Genesis retorted, dropping his fork to flex his wrists. "Still getting used to the absence of chains."

"Yet there's not a single scar on you."

Genesis smirked. "Naturally. I'm not like the rest of you, and I have noticed your enhanced men in the palace - mere shadows of real SOLDIERs."

The Emperor's lip twitched and Hangaku glared at Genesis. "What did I just tell you?" she growled. "Eat your damned food and stop baiting my father."

"Ah, but he's such an easy target."

"Hangaku," Reginald started, but she gave her father a look.

"He's under control," she declared confidently.

"Really? How so? He doesn't appear to be."

Genesis merely smiled.

Hangaku stiffened in her seat. "He wants to know the truth about Sephiroth and Cloud. If they're alive, he wants to be sure of it. He's waiting for proof, and he won't attempt an escape until he has it. He knows we're a prime source of information."

Reginald leaned forward in his high-back chair, putting his elbows on the table and perching his head on his hands. His eyes gleamed with geniuine curiosity.

"And what would you do with such information, 231, if it proves true?"

Genesis grinned toothily. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I require an answer," the emperor said, "else you are going back in your cell."

Genesis refused to let his annoyance show. He really wasn't strong enough to make an escape now, so he folded. The information was fruitless anyway. These morons would be pissing themselves in the face of Sephiroth _and _Cloud and very possibly Genesis. He knew precisely whose side he was on, and it wasn't the collossally stupid emperor's.

"If Sephiroth's alive..." Genesis started and trailed off. What would he do? He couldn't exactly run up to the man and wave a sword in his face, demanding a fight. So he made it simple, and for once his words were completely honest.

"I would walk up to the man and greet him like what he is to me - an old friend. Then, if he's sane, I will happily follow him anywhere. Likely whatever Sephiroth's involved in will involve me as well."

"You were friends?" Hangaku asked.

Genesis nodded. "Best friends, until we became enemies, but not for reasons that anyone could ever guess."

"Tell us anyway," Reginald ordered.

Genesis frowned. "That wonderful formula that you're using to enhance your men is not perfect. Before long, I imagine you'll begin to understand."

"That's entirely off the subject," Hangaku accused.

Genesis shrugged. "You're wrong. It is exactly the answer that you're looking for. You've never seen a rabid SOLDIER or what they're capable of. I have _been one_, but Sephiroth was the _best one_."

"When you say rabid...?" The princess wondered.

"I mean insane, and insanity in any enhanced man is dangerous."

"You're actually giving us a warning," Reginald realized.

Genesis chuckled. "Oh no, Your Royalness. I am giving you a _threat_. I can't wait until my old friend comes knocking at your door. Can't wait to see you on the end of Masamune, or maybe I'll get to watch you sliced in half. Cloud is far more abrupt. Wouldn't wish it on Hangaku though. She's actually tolerable."

The princess snorted, but the Emperor appeared thoughtful.

"You think they stand a chance?"

"You've got it all backwards, Reggie," Genesis cooed. "You're the ones who don't stand a chance."

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

"I can't believe I'm allowing this," Neron stated as Cloud and Sephiroth entered his mansion. "Cloud is one thing, but to have _you _here with him." He shook his head.

"Where are we staying?" Cloud asked politely.

"You know where the guest rooms are. Just pick whatever ones you want," Neron muttered. "I'm going to call Hangaku." He disappeared into the kitchen.

"You think Fenrir and Kali will be alright where they are?" Sephiroth asked Cloud as the blonde led him to a stairway.

"Yeah, we don't want them in the garage if we have to make a quick getaway, and I doubt anyone will try to take them as it takes someone enhanced to even drive them properly."

There was a set of adjoining guest rooms upstairs. Cloud showed Sephiroth where they were and then dragged him into one and locked the door behind them.

Sephiroth didn't waste any time. He grabbed Cloud by the forearms and pulled him forward, practically slamming their mouths together. The blonde didn't protest, instead focusing on slipping his tongue between Sephiroth's lips and getting two greedy handfuls of the silver-haired man's behind. Sephiroth groaned and ground their hips together desperately.

They heard the sound of footsteps approaching and tore apart, lips bruised from kissing. Cloud gave Sephiroth a pleading look and slipped through the adjoining door to the other room just as Neron called out the blonde's name. Sephiroth sighed, reached down to adjust himself in his pants, and walked back into the hall where Cloud was already speaking to Neron from the doorway to the other room. Sephiroth couldn't help but notice the appraising look that Neron was giving Cloud. He was so annoyed, in fact, that he barely noticed when Neron said to Cloud, "I'd like a word with you in private, please."

Cloud frowned, let his eyes dart to Sephiroth and back, and finally nodded. Sephiroth worriedly retreated back into his own room, and sulked.

***!Cloud*Sephiroth!***

Downstairs, Neron had Cloud in the drawing room, when he turned abruptly and kissed the blonde, dipping his thumbs into the waistband of Cloud's pants and tugging insistently. Cloud made a sound of protest and shoved the other man off of him.

Eyes glowing brightly, he hissed, "what the _hell _do you think you are doing?!"

Neron smiled. "Sky or not, you're still mine, and the price to keep me quiet _and _to summon Hangaku is this."

Cloud glowered. "Are you an idiot? I don't want you! I'd sooner let Sephiroth impale you than sleep with you again. If he knew what you just tried to do, you'd be dead already."

"You're under contract. Real name or not, you signed it knowingly. Rejection of such a thing is actually a _crime, _my darling."

Cloud's expression sunk into a blank slate. "I see. So this is who you really are, is it?"

"It's who I have always been. It's who you _claimed to love _about a thousand times in the past three years."

"I did love you," Cloud hissed, "perhaps not in the way that you wanted me to, but I did. I don't any longer, and I won't blame myself for your unhappiness. I can't do that again."

"Why?" Neron snapped. "Because _he _told you not to? That bullshit little speech he gave was cute, but it will never excuse your betrayal of me. I was loyal to you!"

Cloud laughed, hard and sharp. "You slept with every Black and White who gave you a second glance. You made fun of me behind my back, treated me like a pet or a toy rather than a person. I accepted it only because I didn't care enough to correct you. I am not a White or a Black. I am Cloud Strife, something that you have no idea how to deal with, and I don't belong to you."

Neron inhaled sharply and his eyes gleamed angrily. "So you belong to him?"

Cloud cringed. "First and foremost, I belong to _myself _and second the _Planet_, but if I were to tether myself to any one person, then yes. It would be Sephiroth."

Neron only glared.

"You know it's funny," Cloud said sadly. "I liked you enough to forget that you did't know me. You don't understand me. You never have, but you will now. I swear; _you will know me_."

Neron faltered, his anger still present but overwhelmed mostly by confusion. "I don't understand."

Cloud stepped forward and before Neron knew what was happening, the blonde was actually _behind_ him with one arm wrapped tightly around Neron's throat.

A hot breath against Neron's ear and he heard the words: "I knew I'd never like you again the very moment that you called him a monster. I hate to be reminded, and I think I'm done playing nice."

As Neron struggled for breath, a shadow appeared at the entrance to the room.

"So he's finally lost your sympathies," Sephiroth acknowledged with a note of approval. "I wondered when you'd snap."

"Hangaku's phone number is in his cell phone," Cloud said conversationally as Neron wiggled in his grasp, trying to pry Cloud's arm from off his throat. "We don't need him anymore."

"We may, if she is agreeable," Sephiroth said regretfully. He actually couldn't wait to be rid of Neron. "They won't like us if we butcher one of their own."

Cloud sighed and released the Black, letting him fall to the floor in a messy heap, gasping for air.

"Touch me again," Cloud told him sharply, "and I will let Sephiroth slaughter you."

"C-can't..do it _yourself?_" Neron coughed through the jibe.

Cloud smirked. "With me it would be too quick. I'd just slice you in half."

"It's almost too bad that Hojo isn't around anymore," Sephiroth said quietly, even as Cloud shivered visibly. "I've never met a person before now who I'd happily pass on to that madman for an experiment or two."

Cloud huffed and walked over to tug Neron's cell phone free of his pants' pocket. He found Hangaku's number, put the phone on speaker, and let it ring.

On the fourth ring, there was an answer.

"Princess Hangaku's personal line," said a playful voice and Sephiroth drew in a sharp breath.

"_Genesis?_"

Cloud's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Neron watched and listened avidly.

"Well, well, well," said Genesis, "what a sur_prise."_

"Why are you answering?" asked Cloud.

"Is that who I think it is?" Genesis said jovially.

"Yes," Sephiroth said, walking closer to Cloud. "Gen, that's Cloud. He's with me. Why do you have Hangaku's phone?"

"My imprisonment has greatly improved over the past week or so," Genesis admitted. "For some reason, Reggie's daughter trusts me, and she thought her idiot cousin was calling, so she had _me _answer her phone. You should see the look she's giving me right now. Haha!"

"She trusts you? Is she stupid?" Sephiroth wondered honestly.

Cloud smirked.

"I don't _think _so," Genesis admitted. "Though coming from you, that's rich. Are you still mad at me for...everything?"

"I...no. I'm not."

"I see your social skills are as impressive as ever. But thank you. I really am sorry about it all."

Sephiroth smiled a little. "It's fine. I wasn't exactly a shining example of honor back then either."

There was short pause.

"Um, just out of curiosity," Genesis finally said, "is Angeal...?"

"No," Sephiroth practically whispered. "He's still in the lifestream, Gen." And now he felt really bad about ignoring the other man when he had been there.

"So I guess the question I really need to be asking here is _why aren't you_?"

"Look around," Cloud finally interjected. "History is trying to repeat itself."

"Isn't it _your job _to deal with that?"

"According to the Planet, it is," Sephiroth answered, "but it's now my job to make sure that he does. What's your job, Gen? I know that you finally found her."

"Caught red-handed," Genesis admitted. "I do the Goddess' bidding when she calls upon me, and let me tell you, she's been screaming in my ears for the past decade, so I figured something must be up."

"Essentially, our problems are your problems," Cloud summarized.

"Basically."

"So you can answer some questions then?"

"If I know the answers."

"If we go to Reginald and try to explain why everything that he's doing is wrong, will he listen?"

Genesis sighed. "He won't. Just earlier I had that very conversation with him. He was not convinced."

"And Hangaku?" Cloud wanted to know.

"She's more sensible than he is, but if you go up against her father, she will stand in your way."

Cloud finally gave in. "How big is their army?"

"200 strong enhanced by now, though likely unstable."

"Doesn't make them any less dangerous," Sephiroth added. "Gen? Get out of there as soon as you are able."

"And what will you be doing in the mean time?"

"Building an army of our own."

**.End Chapter.**

**A/N: **Felt like a good place to end it. Apologies for any typos. This was literally typed and posted as soon as it was done. Sorry for making y'all wait so long! I had most of it done for ages now, but I wanted to flesh it out a bit before I shared it with you. Reviews greatly encourage me to write more!


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